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QUEEN AND CARDINAL 



QUEEN AND CARDINAL 

A MEMOIR OF ANNE OF AUSTRIA 

AND OF HER RELATIONS WITH 

CARDINAL MAZARIN 

BY MRS. COLQUHOUN GRANT 

AUTHOR OF "the FRENCH NOBLESSE IN THE 
XVIIITH CENTURY," '* A MOTHER OF CZARS " 



WITH PORTRAITS 



NEW YORK 

E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY 

1906 



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PRINTED BY 

HAZKLL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., 

LONDON AND AYLESBURY 

ENGLAND. 



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PREFACE 

IN the following account of the life of Anne or 
Austria I wish at once to disclaim any idea of 
posing as a writer of history. The period embraced 
by the memoirs of this remarkable woman — one of 
the most important Queens- Regent who was ever 
called upon to act the part of a sovereign — is a very 
attractive one. 

The alliance of Bourbon and Hapsburg initiates 
a new era, in which dynastic considerations are all- 
important, but the larger facts of the histories of 
France and Europe in the seventeenth century have 
been treated by many able historians, and do not 
enter into the scope or intention of these pages. 

I have dealt mainly with the life of Anne of 
Austria in the more intimate details of her home 
life, and of her court filled with attractive women 
who were by turns her friends and her enemies, and 
only one chronicler is to be found who throws any 
light upon the subject from this point of view. 
This is Madame de Motteville, the Queen's faithful 



vi PREFACE 

bed-chamber woman, who wrote four volumes of ' 
memoirs, well known in France, though but little 
read in England. I have endeavoured to cull the 
more interesting portions from this book, which was 
compiled — if not during Anne's lifetime, directly- 
after her death — by the one person competent to 
speak of the vie intinie of this Queen who lived 
two hundred and seventy-five years ago. 

On one subject, however, the De Motteville 
Memoirs are silent. No mention is made of the 
deep attachment existing between Anne and the 
famous Minister, the Cardinal Mazarin. Respect 
for her royal mistress, and regard for her fair fame, 
caused Madame de Motteville to preserve a dis- 
creet silence. Other contemporaneous writers were, 
however, by no means so chivalrous. All the 
memoirs of the time treat of this famous love-story 
as a veritable chroniqtie scandaleuse, and the ques- 
tion as to whether a private ceremony of marriage 
had taken place between these lovers was raised, 
but never satisfactorily settled. Be that as it may, 
the fact remains, that into Anne's sad and lonely 
existence a great romance entered at a time when 
her youth and beauty had waned and she had 
already attained middle age, and it lasted till the 
end of her days. 

It is more particularly this episode that I have 
tried to portray in these pages, in the hope that the 



PREFACE vii 

picture of the loves and sorrows of famous per- 
sonages in the far-away past may prove of interest 
to the readers of to-day. 

The student of history must turn to other and 
cleverer writers if he wishes to study France at 
that epoch. 

C. Grant. 

DiNARD, 1906. 



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CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 
THE MARRIAGE OF LOUIS 

PAGE 

Two Young Princesses — The Spanish Bride — Royal Prepara- 
tions — The French Bride — The Interchange — Louis XIII. — 
His Occupations — His Letter of Welcome — Description of 
Anne — An Unlucky Omen — The Marriage — Anne's Difficult 
Position I 

CHAPTER II 
THE INFATUATION OF BUCKINGHAM 

Due de Luynes — Duchesse de Luynes — Anne's Flirtations — 
Duke of Buckingham — The Royal Banquet — Court at Amiens 
— Romantic Adventure — The Duke's Farewell — His Auda- 
cious Conduct — Last Interview — Cardinal Richelieu . . 14 

CHAPTER III 
RICHELIEU INTERVENES 

A Love Intrigue — Richelieu's Accusation against Anne — Marquis 
de Chalais — His Death— Exile of Duchesse de Chevreuse 
— Siege of Rochelle — Unhappy Union 26 

CHAPTER IV 

THE QUEEN AND THE COURT 

Val-de-Grace — Archbishop's Visit — Court Beauties — Marie de' 

Medici — Queens reconciled 35 

ix b 



X CONTENTS 

CHAPTER V 
THE "COUP DE COMPlfeGNE" 

PAGE 

Queen's Bed-chamber— The Queen-Mother— " Coup de Com- 
piegne "—Return of the Duchess— Her Midnight Visits- 
Chevalier de Jars— Hangman to the Cardinal— Scene at the 
Altar — De Jars condemned and reprieved .... 41 

CHAPTER VI 

THE POWER OF RICHELIEU 

Adventures of the Duchesse de Chevreuse— Arrival in Spain- 
Richelieu's Power — The Unhappy King — A Slave to 
Richelieu 5^ 

CHAPTER VII 

MAZARIN 

Mazarin's Parentage — Mazarin's Youth— His Passion for Gambling 
— Mazarin's Relations — The Violet Robes — Anne and 
Mazarin — Raconteur and Wit 5^ 

CHAPTER VIII 
THE CONSPIRACY OF CINQ MARS AND DEATH 
OF RICHELIEU 
Birth of the Dauphin— Marquis de Cinq Mars— His Arrest- 
Cinq Mars executed — Death of RicheHeu — The Two Ministers 66 

CHAPTER IX 
DEATH OF LOUIS XIII. AND RISE OF MAZARIN 
Death of Louis XIII. — Louis XIV. enters Paris — Interview with 
Mazarin — Anne Queen-Regent — The Vendome Cabal — Le v 
Petit Conseil— Mazarin's Advice— Marquise de Senace— 
Duchesse de Chevreuse — La Belle 73 

CHAPTER X 

MAZARIN AS MINISTER 

A Love Letter— Quarrel of the Ladies — Le Jardin de Renard — 
Indignation of Anne— Les Importans— Flight to St. Malo— 
The Duel — Court Moves to Palais Roj'al — Mazarin's 
Power 84 



CONTENTS xi 

CHAPTER XI 

THE queen's life AS REGENT 

PAGE 

Anne's Daily Life — Le Grand Cabinet — The Queen's Supper 
— Her Religious Observances — Summer at Rueil — Mazarin's 
Illness — Anne's Devotion to him ...... 94 

CHAPTER XH 
THE QUEEN AS REGENT 

Return of Henrietta Maria — Battle of Nordlingen — The Parlement 

— Lit de Justice — Anne consults Mazarin .... 102 

CHAPTER XHI 
MARRIAGE OF PRINCESS MARIE 

Marie de Gonzague — The Envoys from Poland — The Marriage 
by Proxy — The Queen of Poland — Her Arrival at Warsaw — 
King Ladislas — A Dearly-bought Crown .... 108 

CHAPTER XIV 

GROWING ATTACHMENT OF THE QUEEN AND 
CARDINAL 

Anne's Love of the Theatre — Education of the King — The Italian 
Troupe — The Cardinal's Grand Ball — Scandalous Insinuations 
— Anne questions La Porte and learns the Scandal — The 
Queen's Oath — The King has Small-pox— His Recovery . 116 

CHAPTER XV 
MAZARIN'S PALACE 

His Art Treasures — His Library — Mazarin's Luxury — The Retiro 
— Mazarin's Ascendancy — Supposed Secret Marriage — Maza- 
rin's Faithful Love — His Dominion over Anne . . .127 

CHAPTER XVI 
GATHERING STORMS 

The Cardinal's Nieces — Twelfth Night — Mazarin's Revenues — 
Anne offends Mazarin — He counsels Prudence — Riot at the 
Notre Dame — Captain of the Guard dismissed . . . 136 



xii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XVII 

MAZARIN IN DANGER 

PAGE 

Arrest of Broussel — A Tumult ensues — Broussel released — 
Terror at Court — The King leaves for Rueil — The Court 
returns to Paris 144 

CHAPTER XVIII 

THE FRONDE 

Midnight at the Palace — Anne's Flight — Discomfort at St. Ger- 
main — The Fronde — Queen of the Frondeurs — Hatred of 
Mazarin — Distress in Paris — No Peace, no Mazarin — End of 
the Fronde 1 5 ^ 

CHAPTER XIX 

THE AFFAIR OF THE MARQUIS DE JARZ£ 

Poverty at Court — Mademoiselle de Chevreuse — Madame de 
Chevreuse coldly received — Marquis de Jarze — Meeting in 
the Garden — Due de Beaufort's conduct at the Supper — The 
Cardinal's Jealousy — Waiting-woman dismissed — Insult to 
Jarze — Conde takes his Part 161 

CHAPTER XX 

DISAFFECTION AT COURT 

Fickle Parisians — The Tabouret — Revolt of the Nobles — The 
Queen in Difficulties— Anne sends for the Bishops — Made- 
moiselle de Montbazon — The House of Rohan . . 172 

CHAPTER XXI 
THE YOUNG FRONDE — RESIGNATION OF MAZARIN 

King and Queen at Rouen — Escape of Duchesse de Longueville — 
Tempest prevents her Sailing — Mazarin surrounded by 
Enemies — He resigns the Charge of the King — His farewell 
to Anne — He decides to leave France 180 

CHAPTER XXII 

MAZARIN IN EXILE 

Mazarin's Flight— Excitement in Paris — De Chauvigny holds 

Office — Mazarin still pulls the Strings 1 88 



II 



CONTENTS xiii 

CHAPTER XXIII 

THE cardinal's CVPHER LETTERS 

PAGE 

Cypher Letters to the Queen — Expressions of Love and Unfailing 
Devotion — Letter No. 3 — Letter No. 31 — Letter No. 34 — 
Letter No. 43 — Letter No. 53 — Letter No. 63 — Letter No. 74 
— Letter No. 96 — Cardinal about to return — Unbroken Union 193 

CHAPTER XXIV 

THE RETURN OF MAZARIN 

Intrigues among the Ladies for Mazarin's return — The Grand 
Monarque — Chateauneuf as Minister — Duchesse de Navailles 
intereferes — Madame de Chatillon — The Cardinal leaves for 
France — Triumphant Return — Magistrates offer Homage — 
Absolute Submission 209 

CHAPTER XXV 

MAZARIN AGAIN IN POWER 

Le Grand Spoliateur — Olympe Mancini — Marries Comte de Sois- 
sons — Madame Mancini — Marie Mancini — The King's Rude- 
ness — Mazarin's Speech to the Envoy — Spanish Alliance , 220 



CHAPTER XXVI 

A WIFE FOR LOUIS XIV 

Princesse Marguerite of Savoy — Indignation of King of Spain — 
Louis is Stubborn — Anne in Despair — Peace and the Infanta 
— Departure of Princess of Savoy 229 



CHAPTER XXVII 

LOUIS XIV. AND MARIE MANCINI 

Anne's Indignation with the Minister — The Cardinal remon- 
strates — The Lovers' Parting — Diplomatic Arrangements — 
End of Romance 236 



xiv CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XXVIII 
TREATY OF PEACE AND MARRIAGE OF LOUIS XIV 

PAGE 

Marriage by Proxy — Spanish Wedding-dress — Meeting between 
Anne and Philip — Louis first sees Marie-Th^rese — Family 
Dinner-party — Royal Wedding — Queen-Mother returns to 
Paris 242 



CHAPTER XXIX 

DEATH OF MAZARIN 

Betrothal of Monsieur — Hortense de Mancini — Cardinal's in- 
creasing Malady — The King's Grief — The Queen's Devotion 
— Death of Mazarin , 250 

CHAPTER XXX 
MAZARIN'S HEIRS 

Lying-in-State — Abuse of the Dead Cardinal — His Enormous 
Wealth — His Personal Legacies — Death of Madame de 
Chevreuse 257 

CHAPTER XXXI 

CONCLUSION 

Death of Anne — Lasting Love between Queen and Cardinal . 263 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

. ANNE OF AUSTRIA. From the portrait in the Louvre 

(Photogravure) Frontispiece 

Facing page 
'^ANNE AT THE TIME OF HER MARRIAGE. After P. MarCttC, 

1692 .......... 16 



38 
76 



vANNE ON HORSEBACK. After F. David 

sANNE AS A WIDOW. After Ph. Champigne 

CARDINAL MAZARiN. From the engraving by F. Nanteui 
(Photogravure) ....... 

^ MAZARIN IN HIS GALLERY. From an engraving by Nanteui 
after Chauveau ....... 

QUEEN ANNE AND THE CARDINAL. From a skctch by 

R. P. Bonington 234 



128 



QUEEN AND CARDINAL 



CHAPTER I 

THE MARRIAGE OF LOUIS 



ON a bright morning in late autumn in 1615 
a long cavalcade of gentlemen, followed by- 
soldiers bearing spears and pennants glistening in 
the sunlight, might have been seen descending the 
steep road leading down to the Spanish border, 
where the rushing waters of the Bidassoa flowed 
through the rich valley. This stream, which falls 
into an estuary at the south of the Bay of Biscay, 
has its name from a Basque word signifying "clear- 
ness," the waters being remarkable for their purity. 
The river had long been a subject of contest 
between France and Spain, forming as it does the 
boundary between the two countries ; but in the 
fifteenth century Louis XII. and Ferdinand I. 
concluded an agreement by virtue of which the 
river became common to both nations. 

The foremost riders among the cavalcade, shading 

I 



2 TWO YOUNG PRINCESSES [chap, i 

their eyes from the oblique rays of the winter sun, 
were looking anxiously to see whether on the 
opposite shore any advancing party was coming 
from the north. 

In the midst of this goodly company was borne 
with due state a royal litter, adorned with the arms 
of Spain, the rich curtains of which being drawn 
aside a bright young face looked out, also anxiously 
scanning the distant scene. 

A mere girl, almost a child, hardly suited for the 
pomp and ceremony with which she was being 
treated ; and yet the crown of France, the greatest 
of the European countries, was about to be placed 
on her youthful head. This young Princess was 
Donna Anna, the Infanta of Spain, who, surrounded 
by her court, was travelling to the country so soon 
to become her own, to be presented to her future 
husband, King Louis XIII. 

She was still full of curiosity and girlish amuse- 
ment, and the mighty affairs of State counted for 
nothing as yet with the little bride, though doubtless 
she was not without many fears, though she bravely 
kept them to herself Just now her mind was 
centred upon a meeting about to take place which 
naturally was of the most absorbing character for her. 

Madame Elisabeth of France, daughter of 
Henri IV., the young sister of the juvenile King 
Louis XI 1 1., was on her way to the court which 
Donna Anna had just left, to marry the Infante 
of Spain, afterwards Philippe IV. This exchange 
of brides, the result of many negotiations, held to 



il 



i6is] THE SPANISH BRIDE 3 

be advisable for the peace of Europe, was about 
to take place. 

The night before the Spanish court had halted 
at Fuenterrabia, a beautiful old town that rises 
like an amphitheatre on the side of a hill at the 
head of the Gulf of Gascony, near the left bank 
of the Bidassoa. 

Philippe III., King of Spain, who accompanied 
his daughter, was closely allied to the House of 
Austria both by birth and marriage, and his only 
daughter had been given the name of his mother, 
" Anne of Austria," a name which she bore for 
the rest of her life — a proud title which even as 
Queen of France she would not forgo. Philippe 
adored his young daughter, and, though the match 
may have satisfied his ambitions, his heart was 
sore at the coming separation. It was a cruel one 
for him, and contrary to all etiquette he determined 
to remain with her to the very last moment ; for this 
interchange was to take place in the centre of the river 
which was the boundary of the Spanish dominions. 

As the party descended on their side of the river, 
they had come in sight of the preparations below, 
which were of a very curious nature, and the details 
of which have been preserved for us in the old 
records of the day/ At the narrowest passage of 

' " L'Arrivee de la royne a Sainct Jean de LVS, 1615. L'ordres 
prescriptes des ceremonies, 161 5. Par grace et permission il est 
permis a Sylvestre Moreau Marchant, libraire et colleporteur de 
faire imprimer, par tel Imprimerie que bon lui semblera les cere- 
monies faictes et obsernees a St. Jean de Lus a I'eschange des 
Infantes de France et d'Espagne. Et deffences a tous autres Im- 
primeurs et libraires de les imprimer ou contrefaire son permission," 



4 ROYAL PREPARATIONS [chap, i 

the Bidassoa three rafts or boats had been prepared. 
On two of them had been erected royal pavilions, 
with crowns of France and Spain respectively on 
each of them. The pillars supporting them were 
draped with rich embroideries of gold and silver 
in beautiful designs. The expense was said to 
have been shared in common by the two countries ; 
but there was no question that the preparations 
made by the Spaniards were far more grandiose, 
and the costliest materials and the most brilliant 
display of gold and silver were employed for their 
side of the passage. 

Two of the barges were moored at the opposite 
sides of the stream, and it was decreed that the 
royal brides were to rest in their separate tents, 
while the whole of the baggage and suites of both 
parties crossed the river. Perhaps " tent " is hardly 
the proper word to use, though the pavilions 
were draped with curtains, for fear of bad weather 
had occasioned all preparations to be made against 
inconvenience from rain ; and chimneys had been 
built, for the year was waning and, in spite of the 
bright southern sun, the weather was decidedly chilly. 

The third barge in the centre, equally hand- 
somely decorated, was not meant as a resting-place, 
but only as a passage from one country to the other. 

To prevent confusion there were barriers fixed 
for some distance on either side of the river, to 
keep out the multitude, and to leave the roads clear 
for the royal corteges. 

The procession had halted on the mountain-side, 



i6i5] THE FRENCH BRIDE 5 

and, no one yet being in sight on the winding pass 
descending on the other side, a cry of dismay arose 
among the Spanish ranks. 

Had the French failed in fulfilHng their contract, 
thus offering an insult to the throne of Spain ? 
If so, they would all be dishonoured as a nation. 
Donna Anna turned pale at the ominous sounds 
around her, and longed to clasp her father's hand, 
for protection and help ; but he was riding ahead 
of her litter. It was a journey not without risk, 
and fears were entertained that the army of the 
Huguenots might oppose the entrance into France, 
even when the passage of the Bidassoa had been 
safely accomplished. 

Then a shout arose from the soldiers, for a horse- 
man had just appeared in sight, and soon a long 
train similar to their own, surrounding the litter 
of Madame Elisabeth, wound slowly down the 
winding road on the opposite shore. 

Strict orders had been issued that, once in sight 
of each other, they were to travel at exactly the 
same pace, and reach the two shores at the same 
moment.^ At a signal the litters were lowered 
and the curtains drawn aside, and the Princesses, in 
their royal robes, alighted in view of the vast 
crowd. The Due de Guise escorted " Madame," 
and if the preparations of the French hardly 
equalled those of the Spaniards, he made up for 
this by the number of his followers. All the flower 
of the French army were ranged in battle array 

' L'Ordre Prescrites des Ceremonies y MDC.XV. 



6 THE INTERCHANGE [chap, r 

behind them, with orders to wait and form the 
escort of the new Queen, while a band of violins, 
trumpets, and drums were ready to welcome her 
with a burst of music and herald her entrance into 
Bayonne. A lane was formed by the rival 
courtiers, and the brides walked through them 
to their separate pavilions, amid the rolling of the 
drums and the shouting of the people. Rest and 
refreshment were naturally much needed by the 
whole party, and they had ample leisure for it 
during the passage of the baggage and attendants, 
which took some time. Here, too, the farewells 
had to be said. Little *• Madame's " adieux were 
of a formal nature, but Anna clung to her father 
and passionately embraced him. When all was 
ready, the signal was given ; the two barges 
were slowly moved from the banks, till they 
reached the mutual ground in the middle of the 
stream. The orders were that the princesses should 
pass each other, giving a right hand, and that the 
gentlemen- and ladies-in-waiting should do the 
same, so that there might be no delay or confusion ; 
those in charge had to see that these orders 
were carried out. But when the two little girls 
met (for Anna was only fifteen, and Elisabeth 
eleven) strict etiquette was set aside, and the new 
sisters warmly embraced, as they stood each on the 
border of their respective territories. Then Anna 
stepped on to the French barge, and as it slowly 
glided to the shore her Spanish life was over 
now she was Queen of France. Entering the 



i6i5] LOUIS XIII. 7 

litter of " Madame," she was borne through her 
welcoming subjects on the way to Bayonne. 

The expectant bridegroom, King Louis XIII., 
was only a boy of fifteen, a few days younger than 
the Infanta. The negotiations for this marriage 
had been going on for years, and had begun before 
the tragic death of his father, Henri IV. At that 
time the young couple were children, not yet ten 
years old. Louis had been a sickly boy, and had 
been reared with difficulty by his gouvernante, 
Madame de Monglat. He needed constant care ; 
but being always in the hands of his physicians, 
who were perpetually giving him medicines, he had 
little chance of being either manly or robust.^ But 
though weak in body, his mind was even in those 
early days not without ambition, and he had a 
great idea of his own powers, and resented any 
interference fi-om others. At his coronation, when 
the Prince de Conde, thinking the sceptre would 
be too heavy, interfered, to relieve him of his load, 
he turned to him angrily and exclaimed, " Non ! non ! 
je veux porter mon sceptre seul," a remark which 
has a melancholy interest when we remember 
how signally he failed to carry out even his own 
ideas of government. He was not without some 
accomplishments ; he was fond of music and 
versifying, and had a great love of geography. 
When a small boy, he would make rose-leaves 
float in his bath, and call them " ships sailing from 

' Vie Particulilre de Louis XIII. ^ par Herouard, son premier 
M^decin. 



8 HIS OCCUPATIONS [chap, i 

India to Goa"; but his great passion was for 
birds. In appearance he was not bad-looking, 
but buih on rather deHcate lines. 

This was the youth who was awaiting the arrival 
of Donna Anna of Spain. Not with much im- 
patience, for he was very averse to the marriage, 
though his mother, Marie de' Medici, had done 
her best to encourage him, and to persuade him he 
might find other pleasures than that of the chase, 
to which he was devoted. 

He was willing enough, however, to set off for 
Bordeaux with a train of soldiers to meet his bride. 
His physician, M. Herouard, writes in his journal 
of August 17: "The King awoke at 4.30, too 
impatient to start on his journey to delay even an 
hour. His face was bright and gay, and he was 
dressed with care. After an early breakfast he 
went booted and spurred to say his prayers in the 
Chapelle de Bourbon, and before seven o'clock 
the cortege had set out for Bordeaux." ^ 

During the time he had to wait at that town for 
the arrival of the bride, he did not think it necessary 
to change his childish habits and occupations. He 
looked after his dogs and his birds, sometimes he 
assumed the dress of a pantaleone as a masquerade, 
or would make masse pans (or almond sweetmeat) 
for his delectation.^ Occasionally the idea of the 
impending ceremony would overwhelm him, and 
he would spend the day in tears, and then forget 
his woes in hawking. 

Journal de Herouard^ vol. 4. ^ A. Baschet, Le Roi chez la Reine. 



i6i5] HIS LETTER OF WELCOME 9 

Primed by his advisers, he wrote a letter of 
welcome to meet Anna at Bayonne, whence 
a courier was to be despatched directly on her 
arrival, so that he might be in readiness for her. 
This letter has been preserved ; but though it came 
from the royal pen, it is hard to say whether the 
sentiments were Louis' own, or dictated to him.^ 

" Madame, 

" Ne pouvant selon mon desir me trouver 
aupres de vous, a I'entree de mon Royaume, pour 
vous mettre en possession du pouvoir que j'ai, 
comme aussi de mon entiere affection, de vous 
aimer et servir, j'envoi Luines vers vous, un de 
mes plus confident serviteurs, pour en mon nom 
vous saluer, et vous dire que vous etes attendue 
de moi avec impatience, pour vous offrir moi-meme 
I'un et I'autre. Je vous prie done le recevoir 
favorablement, et le croire de ce qu'il vous dira 
de la part Madame, de votre plus amy et 
serviteur. 

" Louis." 

It was the Due de Luynes who presented this 
letter from his royal master on Anna's arrival at 
Bordeaux, and accompanied her to the Bishop's 
Palace, which had been prepared for her reception, 
and he had orders to bring her by the same route 
that had been passed over by Madame Elisabeth 

' This letter is part of a pamphlet which was printed at the time in 
Paris at the " Imprimerie Antoine du Brucil entre le Pont St. Michel, 
et la rue de la Harpe a I'etoile couronnee. M.D.c.XV., avec permission." 



lo DESCRIPTION OF ANNE [chap, i 

when on her way to Spain, the Due de Guise 
being also in charge. 

As the new Queen proceeded in her litter, she 
little knew that five miles from Bordeaux the King 
in disguise had mingled with the crowd that lined 
the road, in order that he might satisfy his boyish 
curiosity as to his bride. 

Even in those early years she was tall, with 
a well-proportioned figure. Her eyes were very 
fine, combining in their depths both seriousness 
and gentleness, with a charm that in after-years 
proved fatal to more than one illustrious personage. 
She had magnificent hair of a chestnut colour in 
great waving masses, which she delighted in 
combing and dressing herself She had the rare 
gift of beautiful hands, extremely white and perfect 
in shape ; they were soon the admiration of all 
Europe. On this occasion she was dressed in 
a petticoat of silver brocade, which showed between 
the folds of her green satin travelling habit, made 
with long, hanging sleeves. Round her neck was 
a diamond chain, the gift of Louis. A green velvet 
cap to match, with a black heron's plume at the 
side, was placed on her fair curls, and set off the 
rich colouring of her hair.^ 

As the cavalcade neared Bordeaux the salvos of 
the artillery and the roll of drums announced their 
arrival. The litter, by order, was thrown open so 
that all might behold their future Queen. At the 
palace, where she first halted, two state rooms had 
' Memoires de Madame de Motieville, vol. i. 



i6i5] AN UNLUCKY OMEN ii 

been prepared, one for Louis and one for Anna. 
In that of the latter a dais had been erected, covered 
with black velvet — a somewhat funereal throne for 
a bride. 

Four days were granted to her before the final 
ceremony, that she might rest from her journey ; 
but they were not spent, as she doubtless expected, 
with the young bridegroom at her side. 

Every possible homage was offered to her by 
the court, but not even Marie de' Medicis could 
awake any enthusiasm in her son. To the disgust 
of every one, he went off duck-shooting the day 
after Anna's arrival, an act of neglect and disre- 
spect that even the very youthful bride could not 
have failed to notice. 

On Sunday they were obliged to attend mass 
together, the sulky boy and the timid girl, who 
were so soon to be bound by an irrevocable tie. 
But this was an act of religion, not of ceremony; 
they wore their ordinary dress, and were attended 
only by their immediate suite. This was Friday, 
the 29th, which must afterwards have been reckoned 
an unlucky day, for on the return of the Queen to 
her apartments they were startled by a loud noise, 
and a beam came crashing down beside the chim- 
ney-piece, where a moment before Anna had been 
standing warming her hands by the fire. Fortu- 
nately she had moved away, otherwise the accident 
must have proved fatal.^ As it was, the room was 
filled with dust and debris, and the ladies shivered 

^ Le Gouven. 



12 THE MARRIAGE [chap, i 

at the evil augury. Anna herself was considerably 
frightened ; she realised what an escape she had 
had, and desired that a thanksgiving service should 
be held in the cathedral, which she attended, as did 
also a large concourse of people. No mention, 
however, is made of Louis having accompanied 
her. 

The marriage took place on November 25, 
with all the state that attends the wedding of a 
sovereign. In spite of his former neglect, Louis 
was very attentive on the auspicious day, and looked 
his best in the white satin and violet velvet of his 
full dress. The young couple were curiously like 
each other ; they seemed more like brother and 
sister, and such their relations continued to be for 
four years. Louis had no desire for any closer 
union, and on account of his extreme youth he was 
allowed to have his own way. He had been 
pampered and petted all his life, and we read of his 
nurse taking a prominent part in the arrangements. 
He had absolutely no idea of inconveniencing 
himself for any one ; being fatigued after the 
ceremony, he retired at six o'clock to sup alone 
and go to bed.^ 

The journey of the royal pair to Paris was one 
long scene of rejoicing. An escort of 4,000 horse 
protected them on their way, and their arrival at 
the Louvre was conducted with great state. The 
new Queen, in a blaze of diamonds — even her dress 
sprinkled with precious stones — appeared on the 

* A. Baschet, Le Rot chez la Reine, 



A 



i6i5] ANNE'S DIFFICULT POSITION 13 

balcony and threw largesse to the people, an 
amusement which suited the boyish Louis well. 
He entered into it with zest, and the days that 
followed were spent in fetes and revelry. 

But through it all the King took no part in 
matters of State and politics, and saw but little of 
his wife. 

Anne, as she was now called,^ filled every one 
with admiration at her modest and prudent behaviour. 
The grave and courtly manners she had acquired 
in Spain stood her in good stead at this trying 
moment. Her exalted but lonely position, and her 
extreme youth, called forth much pity from many 
of her subjects — indeed, a young girl could hardly 
have been placed in a more difficult position. 

' Anne, a name borne by many celebrated women, was derived 
from the Hebrew word signifying " gracious." 



CHAPTER II 

THE INFATUATION OF BUCKINGHAM 

VERY soon after the marriage the young Queen 
was deprived of her Spanish household, all 
her ladies being sent av/ay except Donna Estefana, 
to whom she was tenderly attached. She was an 
elderly lady, who had had the charge of Anne in 
her childhood, and acted now as first bed-chamber 
woman. Anne's knowledge of French was still 
imperfect, so there was really a necessity for this 
lady's services being retained, otherwise the position 
of the new sovereign would have been one of real 
forlornness. Among her suite was a Spanish lady 
of a noble family in Madrid, who had married 
Monsieur Bertaud, one of the gentlemen-in-waiting 
at the French court.^ 

It was by order of Cardinal Richelieu that Anne 
was thus cut off as much as possible from com- 
munication with Spain ; but he made an exception 
in favour of Madame Bertaud, who was useful as 
interpreter to the Queen. She not only remained 
for many years in her Majesty's confidence, but 
her place was afterwards filled by her daughter, 

' Menioires de Madame de Motteville, vol. i. 
14 



i6i6] THE DUC DE LUYNES 15 

Madame de Motteville ; it is to her we are indebted 
for much information as to the private Hfe of Anne 
of Austria, whose devoted companion she remained 
to the end of her Hfe.^ 

Through the connivance of Mme. Bertaud the 
Queen was able to carry on a correspondence with 
her relatives at the court of Spain. This filled 
her with guilty joy, for she was not long in finding 
out that she was surrounded by enemies, whom 
she took pleasure in circumventing. Chief among 
them was the Due de Luynes, to whom she had 
been specially consigned at the beginning of her 
married life, and who had the audacity to propose 
to Louis that it would be advisable to repudiate 
his wife, in order to marry a relation of the 
Duchesse de Luynes. When the Duchess heard 
this rumour she turned it into ridicule. She was 
filled with pity for the poor young Queen, and did 
her utmost to win her confidence and love ; but 
Anne turned away from her advances with disgust, 
so great had become her hatred and contempt for 
De Luynes, as she naturally concluded that the 
husband and wife were acting in concert. Desiring 
to please Louis, and also not wishing to be 
debarred from the hunting-parties and other 
amusements, she suffered herself to come in 
contact with De Luynes. This man had been a 
simple country gentleman of Avignon ; but his 

' The earlier part of these memoirs is to be found in a manuscript 
in the Biblioth^que de I'Arsenal. The memoirs are not continued, 
however, later than 1644. The best edition of the whole work is that 
published in 1723. 



i6 DUCHESSE DE LUYNES [chap, n 

knowledge of the habits of birds and his skill in 
taming them had endeared him to Louis, and he 
was put in charge, and made Grand Master of 
the Royal Aviaries. 

His power over the King gradually increased, and 
he would brook no rivals. It was at his connivance 
that the Marechal d'Ancre was assassinated, and all 
the murdered man's possessions were given to De 
Luynes. He was then by degrees created Marechal, 
Duke, Peer, Constable, and Keeper of the Seals. 
He married the Princesse Marie de Rohan, and 
never got over his pleasure at being allied to such 
a noble house.^ 

So the first six years of the loveless marriage 
passed away ; all the joys that it produced for 
Anne were the pleasures of her exalted position. 
The death of De Luynes in 1621 perhaps gave 
her a feeling that she was now secure from any 
evil influence acting upon Louis. 

During those years she had overcome her former 
prejudice, and learnt to find a real friend in the 
Duchesse de Luynes, who entered into all her 
little sorrows, seeking to alleviate them in every 
way, besides sharing all court amusements with her. 
This lady, who afterwards became Duchesse de 
Chevreuse, was young and gay and laughter-loving, 
and she persuaded the Queen that for young 
hearts all should be joyous ; she turned everything 
into fun, even matters of weight and seriousness. 

But De Luynes' death did not bring peace into 

^ Bazin de Raucon, Histoire du Regne de Louis XIII. 



rZ-NNE DAVSTMCHL mTfVNOM ROYNE BE FB.ANCL £T Dig N/STAKt 




After p. Marcttc, 1652. 

ANNE OF AUSTRIA AT THE TIME OF HER MARRIAGE. 



1625] ANNE'S FLIRTATIONS 17 

the court circle, for Marie de' Medici having 
become reconciled to her son, it only widened 
the breach between the husband and wife. His 
mother wished to be absolute with Louis, and 
therefore encouraged the misunderstanding between 
the royal pair ; besides, she would not give Anne 
credit for either goodness or intelligence. 

That Anne was coquettish and frivolous there 
is no doubt ; the eyes of many of the courtiers 
were turned with open admiration on the fair 
young queen. The Due de Montmorency,* though 
he had long been under the thraldom of the 
beautiful Marquise de Sable, was among the 
number. Anne did not concern herself much at 
his attentions, and laughed openly at the infatua- 
tion of the old Due de Bellegarde. Indeed, his 
gallantries were a source of amusement to the 
whole court, including the King, who, in spite 
of his somewhat jealous nature, turned the whole 
thing into ridicule. Anne flirted with and smiled 
on them all, but her heart was quite untouched. 
Certainly Louis had never made it beat the faster ; 
she was as indifferent to him as he was to her, 
only the natural sweetness of her disposition made 
her kind and considerate towards him. 

In 1625 an alliance was about to take place 
between the thrones of France and England, for a 
marriage was proposed between Charles I. and 
Henrietta Maria, the youngest sister of King Louis. 

This gave great satisfaction to both nations, and 

' Uncle of the great Conde. 

3 



i8 DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM [chap, n 

Marie de' Medici, whose soul was filled with 
ambition, craved to see her daughter raised to the 
throne. King Charles's favourite and chief adviser, 
the Duke of Buckingham,^ was sent over to Paris 
to carry out the negotiations, laden with presents for 
the young bride. Richelieu had been very averse 
to this nobleman being sent on such an errand, 
and persuaded Louis to refuse to receive him as 
ambassador, his character being such that he was 
considered "equally dangerous to nations, kings, 
and husbands."^ 

George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, had been 
endowed by nature with beauty and charm; he 
was said to be the handsomest man of his day. 
His power over his royal master is well known. 
Charles could not move in any matter without the 
advice of his favourite ; nor did the King ever dare 
to oppose his wishes. 

A boaster, as well as a libertine, Buckino-ham 
used to declare that he had been the lover of three 
queens. Intriguing and crafty, he dominated two 
kings, and he has lived in history as a type of 
courtier-like levity and fascinating vice. This was 
the man who dared to cast his audacious eyes on 
the innocent Queen of France.^ 

In spite of the objections of Richelieu, Kino* 

Charies refused to send any other ambassador, and 

the alliance being of too important a nature to be 

' George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, born in 1 592, assassinated 
1628. 

^ M^moires de Richelieu 

* Memoires de Rets^ v. 4, p. 186. 



I62S-6] THE ROYAL BANQUET 19 

abandoned on account of a prejudice, Buckingham 
was eventually received by Louis. He was enter- 
tained with all ceremony, in the presence of the 
two Queens and Princess Henrietta Maria. Anne's 
attention was attracted by the handsome envoy, whose 
grace of mind and body captivated her at once. 

This was the beginning of that fatal episode in 
her life which somewhat unjustly brought down 
upon her the censure of her subjects, and for ever 
tarnished her fair fame. 

As to Buckingham, feminine charms always 
inflamed his facile nature, and in describing the 
scene to his royal master he wrote of Anne and the 
bride-elect "as the two most perfect creatures in 
the world." 

Buckingham was rich, magnificent, and liberal, 
as befitted the favourite of a great king ; he had 
the spending of the royal treasures, and was decked 
with the royal jewels. He was generous, too, and 
of a sympathetic nature, but where women were 
concerned absolutely destitute of principle. 

Anne was aware of his penetrating eyes fixed 
upon her as he gracefully carried out his high 
mission before the King, nor did he confine his 
admiration to glances only.^ At the royal banquet 
he sat beside the Queen, and charmed her with his 
gallant bearing and flattering tongue. The embassy 
was to last only a week, but Buckingham lost no 
time. Under cover of the music at the State 
concert, he drew from Anne the avowal that if 

' Cardinal de Richelieu, MJmoires. 



20 COURT AT AMIENS [chap. n. 

she could admit a love for another rather than her 
husband it would be George Villiers who would be 
that favoured person.^ Through it all Anne thought 
no harm nor intended any. She was not in love 
with Louis, so she made no secret of her admira- 
tion for Buckingham, and spoke openly of his many 
attractions of mind and body. It was the habit of 
her court, and of her day, to admit and be proud 
of a conquest. At her palace in Madrid she had 
been lised to hear her Spanish ladies, who lived like 
cloistered nuns, and never spoke to a man in the 
presence of their King and Queen, boast of their 
love affairs, which, far from detracting from their 
reputations, seemed to enhance them. 

The Duchesse de Chevreuse, now in constant 
attendance on the Queen, spent her whole life in 
intrigues, and Anne, in spite of the purity of her 
mind, must through the counsels of her friend 
have learnt to treat passion lightly, and seek to 
inspire it in the hearts of men, feeling all the time 
that her own virtue was unassailable. The time 
of revelry drew to a close. Anne, doubtless 
anxious to prolong it, announced her intention of 
accompanying her young sister-in-law as far as 
possible on the journey to England. 

■ The court halted at Amiens on the way, and 
an incident that occurred there gave rise to much 
scandal. There was a very fine garden at the 
house where the royal ladies lodged, which for 
some reason was always kept locked, by order of 

' Memoires de Motteville^ v. i. 



I62S-6] ROMANTIC ADVENTURE 21 

the King. Anne's curiosity was aroused, and as 
there was a great deal of difficulty in getting the 
key, she became still more desirous of entering it. 
It was somewhat late in the evening by the time 
the captain of the guard had thrown the gates open 
at her disposal, and she passed through them, 
accompanied by Madame de Chevreuse and some 
of her suite, among others the Duke of Bucking- 
ham. 

The party strolled along the main avenue, and 
by degrees they scattered in different directions, 
and the Duke drew Anne into the dusk of one 
of the side alleys. Deep in conversation for a 
moment or two, the Queen did not notice that they 
were separated from the rest of the party, when 
suddenly Buckingham clasped her in his arms, 
making a passionate avowal of his love. 

Terrified at his too ardent caresses, Anne gave a 
cry, and called loudly to her equerry. This very 
cry, which showed the innocence of her purpose, 
proved her undoing ; the members of her suite 
rushed to her assistance and the affair could no 
longer be kept secret, and it was not long before 
it reached the ears of the King, as well as the 
whole court, where the story did not lose in the 
telling. The journey was resumed the following 
day to Calais, where they halted, and here Anne 
insisted on having a ball. 

While treading a stately measure Buckingham 
doubtless found time to pour into the Queen's 
indulgent ears regret for the past and promise of 



22 THE DUKE'S FAREWELL [chaf. n 

prudence in the future, all the while that his eyes 
searched the very depths of hers ; his prayer for 
pardon was more of a challenge than a petition. 
He had no intention of hurrying his departure, 
and let it be understood that the delay was 
in ^ consequence of the Queen-Mother's indispo- 
sition. The experienced courtiers saw through 
these manoeuvres, though possibly the Queen 
did not. 

" La maniere d'agir de cet etranger me deplait 
beaucoup," writes the Comte de Brienne in his 
memoirs.^ At last, even Buckingham could find 
no further pretext to delay—Charles was waiting 
impatiently for his bride— and he had to proceed 
with Henrietta Maria to England. 

Anne, having taken leave of her sister-in-law, 
entered the royal carriage, and the Duke, bowing 
low, with his plumed hat in his hand, advanced 
bareheaded to make his adieux.^ 

\.He lifted the hem of her robe in courtly fashion 
to imprint a kiss upon it. The Princesse de Conte, 
who was sitting beside her royal mistress, discreetly 
looked the other way. Anne's ladies were fond of 
her, and sympathised, not always wisely, with her ; 
some may have aided her little follies maliciously,' 
pleased to see her descending from her pedestal 
above their heads; so Buckingham stood unheeded. 
Holding the curtain which hung over the window 
of the coach, he drew it forward as a screen, and 

' Memoires du Comte de Brienne. 
' Memoires de Motteville. 



1625-6] AUDACIOUS CONDUCT 23 

with tears rolling down his cheeks murmured some 
broken words of farewell ; while Anne, bending 
forward, her fine eyes full of tears, forgiving all 
his audacity, strove to mitigate his grief at his 
departure. 

Doubtless she thought this was a last good-bye, 
but her crafty lover intended otherwise. Perhaps 
it was more passion than craft, for George Villiers 
was of a susceptible, amorous nature. Anyway, 
instead of cros^ng the Channel immediately he 
pretended he had received important communi- 
cations from his sovereign, which rendered it 
necessary for him to return once more to Paris, to 
confer with the Queen-Mother. 

Leaving the Princess at the seashore, he started 
back to discuss a perfectly imaginary negotiation ; 
but arriving early at the Louvre he repaired at 
once to Anne's apartments; and, having forced his 
way into her chamber, found her still in bed. 
Falling on his knees beside her, he kissed the sheets 
with ardour, while inarticulate sobs broke from 
him ks he bent his handsome head in an attitude 
of despair on the lace draperies of the bed. 
V- Anne remained frozen in silent dismay, perhaps 
even fear, and a painful silence ensued. 

Then the whole awkwardness and impropriety 
of the Duke's conduct caused her ladies to feel 
it was their duty to interfere, and the old Comtesse 
de Lannoi, who stood at the head of the bed, told 
Buckingham with great severity that such manners 
were not in vogue in France, and attempted to 



24 LAST INTERVIEW [chap, ii 

make him rise from his kneeling position. But he, 
resisting her efforts, told her that he was not a 
Frenchman, and that he was not obliged to observe 
the rules of that country ; then turning once more 
to the Queen, he loaded her with terms of endear- 
ment. But by this time Anne had become mistress 
of herself; she reproached him for his temerity, 
and — in a voice from which, however, all anger was 
absent — calmly told him to leave her presence. 

With one long adoring look, Buckingham slowly 
rose to his feet and obeyed his lady's order. 
Nothing, however, could daunt this ardent lover. 
The following day he had the audacity to approach 
the Queen again, in the sight of Marie de' Medici 
and the whole court, and made his formal and last 
adieux, fully determined in his own mind, however, 
to return before long. 

The King was at Fontainebleau, so, as soon as 
the English ambassador had withdrawn, the two 
queens left the Louvre to join him. Thus this 
early romance of Anne's life was at an end, but not 
the consequences of it. The whole affair had been 
brought forward too publicly to be lightly passed 
over. The careless equerry was dismissed, as 
were others of the suite.^ Everything to the 
disadvantage of the Duke of Buckingham was 
poured into Anne's ears, but she only held her 
proud head the higher, and with compressed lips 
listened in unbelieving silence. She had meant no 
wrong, and she had done no wrong, and she would 

' Memoires de la Porte, 



I62S-6] CARDINAL RICHELIEU 25 

not allow herself to be browbeaten in this fashion ; 
before her eyes she still saw the handsome face of 
her English lover, and in her ears she still heard 
the alluring tones of his voice. 

But she never saw Buckingham again. When 
the following year Henrietta Maria was anxious 
to return to see her mother, she tried to persuade 
Charles to let her travel to France under the 
charge of Buckingham. But both Louis and his 
mother absolutely refused to receive him ; aided 
in this matter by the Cardinal Richelieu, they 
remained firm, and George Villiers was never able 
to re-visit France. Madame de Chevreuse mis- 
chievously kept the flame alight by forever talking 
of him to Anne. The Queen and her favourite 
hated Richelieu, whom they looked on as the 
originator of all their annoyances ; it was their 
chief pleasure to thwart him, all the more so that 
Anne was persuaded that he insinuated many 
things into the Kinp:'s ear. 

In after-years she saw how the light-heartedness 
of youth had led her blindly into grievous error, 
and it was owing to the Duchesse de Chevreuse 
that she had acted with such want of judgment. 
But wherever the fault might have lain, this affair 
with Buckingham proved fatal to the young 
Queen's future, for it was never forgotten, or 
forgiven, by either the King or his people. 



CHAPTER III 



RICHELIEU INTERVENES 



AFAR worse adventure befell Anne the 
following year. She made the discovery, 
when travelling to Nantes, that the Queen-Mother, 
Marie de' Medici, and Cardinal Richelieu were 
working together to have her sent back in dis- 
grace to Spain. 

This treatment, which she had long dreaded, 
was more than the unhappy Queen could endure 
in silence. In one matter she did indeed confess 
that she had been acting in a manner not free from 
intrigue. She had been doing her best to prevent 
the marriage of Monsieur the King's brother and 
heir with Mademoiselle de Montpensier. 

The astrologers had declared that Louis would 
not live very long, and to increase the popularity 
of their predictions they accused the Queen of 
a desire to marry her brother-in-law after her 
husband's death. This was the pretext for the 
animosity now displayed towards Anne. She ad- 
mitted that she had dreaded the idea of the marriage 
of Monsieur, as long as she remained childless ; for 
should an heir be born of any such union, she feared 
lest the Queen-Mother should attempt to have 

26 



1627] A LOVE INTRIGUE 27 

her repudiated. The charge now brought against 
her was, however, of far more grave meaning than 
merely any foolish wishes she might have expressed 
on her somewhat feeble attempts at opposition to 
those far stronger than herself It was no less 
than a distinct accusation of a very grave nature. 

It was a love intrigue in the first instance that 
provoked the trouble.^ 

M. de Jouvigni was madly in love with Madame de 
Chevreuse. That fair disturber of the public peace, 
while possessing all the qualities suitable for political 
intrigue, was " feminine " in the highest degree ; in 
this lay at once her strength and her weakness. 

De Jouvigni, full of jealousy, and swayed by 
the passions which ambition and desire provoke, 
made an accusation against the Marquis de Chalais, 
whom he suspected of being the Duchess's lover, 
of having made an attempt on the King's life. 

De Chalais eagerly repudiated the idea ; in 
company with others he certainly had helped to 
prevent the marriage of Monsieur with Madame 
de Montpensier, on the plea that it was better for 
all parties that a foreign princess should be chosen ; 
and owing to his passionate love for Madame de 
Chevreuse he had doubtless worked with more 
ardour than discretion, knowing that she also had 
this cause at heart ; but treachery to his sovereign 
was very far from his thoughts.^ 

' MSmoires de Motteville. 

* Henri de Talleyrand, Marquis de Chalais, was bom in 1599, and 
executed in 1627. 



28 RICHELIEU'S ACCUSATION [chap, m 

But he had incurred the ill-will of Richelieu, 
who, in order to increase his power over the King, 
had persuaded him that his throne and his life were 
threatened by a number of noblemen who had 
formed a cabal against him, and he further inflamed 
his master by making him believe that the Queen 
was implicated in this plot. 

Even the cold-blooded Louis received this in- 
telligence with doubt and dismay, and refused to 
listen to such a charge. But Richelieu knew of 
means by which he could press it further home. 
He repaired to the prison where the Marquis lay 
under sentence of death, and assured him of a 
free pardon if he would swear that the Queen 
was also in the plot. The wretched man, in a 
moment of fear and weakness, with the stern 
Minister standing over him, thinking that the 
King would never believe aught against his wife, 
gave the desired information, and Richelieu, hast- 
ening back to the royal presence, amplified the 
reluctant words he had dragged from his prisoner, 
and so persuaded the King that the statement 
was true. 

Horrified at learning that instead of a faithful 
wife he had a murderess ever beside him, the un- 
happy Louis was in a state bordering on frenzy ; 
he sent for Anne to attend the council, and there 
before all denounced her as having conspired against 
his life, for the sake of having another husband.^ 

The Queen, magnificent in her rich attire, stood 

^ Memoires de Motieville, vol. i. 



1627] AGAINST ANNE 29 

before him in all her beauty, and looked at him 
out of her calm eyes, with their steadfast glance. 
Bravely she forced back the tears of natural 
indignation that welled within them, for she was 
supported by the knowledge of her own innocence. 
Outraged as she was in her tenderest feelings as 
a woman and a wife, in a firm voice she replied to 
the charge, generously withholding all anger and 
animosity towards the King. 

She declared her absolute innocence of such a 
crime ; turning towards her mother-in-law, who 
stood beside the King, she reproached her bitterly for 
this last persecution intended to bring about her ruin. 

As Anne of Austria, the proud Infanta of Spain, 
she looked her accusers in the face without faltering, 
and then asked permission to withdraw.^ But it 
is ever hard to persuade others of an untruth when 
their wish is to think evil, and she might never 
have been cleared of this charge had not the 
perfidy of Richelieu defeated its own ends. Though 
he had promised a pardon to the Marquis de 
Chalais, he took no further steps in the matter. 
Perhaps he feared further revelations should the 
prisoner be set at liberty. From the day that he 
had falsely accused the Queen, De Chalais had 
never had a moment's peace, though he had fully 
determined to repair the evil some day. But when 
his accusers came to lead him out to execution 

• Louis said of his wife, " Dans I'etat oil je suis je dois lui par- 
donner, mais je ne suis pas oblige de la croire.'* — M/motres de la 
Rochefoucauld. 



30 MARQUIS DE CHALAIS [chap, m 

he saw that he had been fooled and forsaken by 
the Minister. 

He sent his confessor at once to the King to 
tell him the whole truth, and told him also to go 
and implore pardon of Anne for having been per- 
suaded under the fear of death and by false promises 
to accuse her of treachery towards the Sovereign. 

Not only did these words of a condemned man 
on the scaffold carry weight, but his mother the 
Marquise de Chalais sought an audience with the 
Queen, and her description was so vivid and graphic 
that it left no doubt in the minds of her hearers 
as to the truth of her story. 

Her unhappy son's knowledge of the Queen's 
jealous dislike of the marriage had been turned into 
a weapon against him, and his fatal weakness had 
been his ruin. All that came of this incident was 
increased fear and hatred on the part of Anne 
towards Richelieu. In spite of opposition, Monsieur 
finally married Mademoiselle de Montpensier, a 
marriage which after all brought a great deal of 
happiness into Anne's life, for she learned to love 
her sister-in-law in the years to come ; Richelieu's 
vengeance, however, took the form of procuring the 
dismissal from court of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, 
which was a great blow to Anne, who was very fond 
of her, and knew not how to live without her society, 
but in reality it was a fortunate occurrence. 

Madame de Chevreuse had been the Queens 
evil genius all through. A woman so entirely 
occupied with vanity and intrigue was no fit 



i627] HIS DEATH 31 

companion to a young princess who was still in 
ignorance of all the dangers that surrounded her. 
That very ignorance made her unconscious of the 
advantages that accrued from the departure of the 
Duchess, but Anne's bitterness was increased 
against Richelieu, whom she credited with having 
destroyed the peace of her existence. 

Still, we cannot be surprised that the Queen 
suffered at being parted from her friend, who was 
a woman of no ordinary talent. Her moral sense 
was indeed deficient ; it was well known that she 
had many lovers, and she used to say herself that 
by "a strange caprice she never loved most the one 
she esteemed most." ^ For the attraction of the 
moment she would go any lengths, brave any perils, 
but the slightest distraction would turn her attention 
to a fresh object. 

In spite of the assertions of Cardinal Retz, it is 
doubtful whether Buckino-ham had ever been the 
Duchess's lover, though possibly she did always speak 
of him as " ce pauvre Buckingham," nor can we 
altogether credit the celebrated picture which the 
Cardinal drew of her in his Mchnoiresr It was otiir^ 
and extravagant, as were many of his descriptions. 
The Marquis de Chalais had undoubtedly been one 
of her lovers, and when she saw his tragic end on 
the scaffold she was transported with rage as well as 
with grief. After this lamentable affair Richelieu, 
who had failed altogether to win her over to his side, 

' Memoires de Motteville. 

* Memoires de Cardinal de Reiz, v. 3, p. 104. 



32 EXILE OF Mme. DE CHEVREUSE [chap, m 

declared she did more harm than any other person ; 
certainly to be planning and plotting was the 
breath of her nostrils. Sure of obtaining help from 
the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Holland 
(another of her devoted admirers), she requested 
permission, if she had to leave court, to retire to 
England. But this the Cardinal would not allow, 
and she was obliged to go to Lorraine to a property 
of her own, which had been left her by her first 
husband. There she lived for intrigue, and tried 
to form a European league with England and 
Austria, with the help of Charles IV. of Lorraine.^ 
She found a willing abettor in the Duke of Buck- 
ingham. His vanity, as well as his affections, was 
sorely hurt by the episode at the Court of France, 
and his ambition was equally checked. He was 
glad to provoke a war between the two countries, 
and in a letter to Lord Holland he made no secret 
of the true state of his feelings ; when Louis arrived 
in July 1627 with his army and laid siege to La 
Rochelle, where the Huguenot rising had taken 
place, Buckingham arrived with a large naval force 
to their defence, openly showing his revenge, thus 
publicly proclaiming the passion for Anne in which 
he gloried. 

But his pride was punished by the reverses he 
encountered. 

Richelieu displayed almost superhuman activity. 

^ This man, Charles IV. of Lorraine and Due de Guise, was a 
schemer who sided with whatever party and country paid the largest 
sum for permission to travel through his domain, which was the 
easiest route to Flanders (D'Haussonville). 



1628] SIEGE OF LA ROCHELLE 33 

He had made great preparations, both naval and 
military, and repaired to La Rochelle in company 
with the King. The Duke's design was on the 
He de Rhe, contrary to the advice he had been 
given, which was to land his men at the He 
d'Oleron, where the garrison was weak and the 
island ill provided, whereas Rhe was strongly forti- 
fied, and well furnished with necessaries. 

His repulse followed on his ill-judged venture, 
and he abandoned the siege in disgust, and set sail 
for England. 

This was the first time that the English, who 
used to bring glory from France, were repulsed 
with shame, and they did not soon recover the 
honour lost in this unhappy enterprise. 

None the less Buclfmgham was received in 
England with all honour, as if he were a conquering 
victor. A second relief of La Rochelle was re- 
solved on at court, and the Duke, to ingratiate 
himself with the people, undertook it with hopes 
of better success than at the lie de Rhe.^ These 
hopes were frustrated, for while superintending 
the preparations at Portsmouth he fell by the 
knife of the assassin Fenton, August 23, 1628. 

As to Anne, had any love, even friendship, 
existed between her and Louis, and had she been 
able to speak openly to him, the uprightness of 
her thoughts might have caused him to forgive the 
follies of her youth. 

' Memoirs of the Life oj George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham. 
Tract printed and sold by George Smeeton, 1819. 



\ 



34 UNHAPPY UNION [chap, m 

Louis had many good qualities, and being young 
himself, lacked prudence, and also the common 
sense which an older man would have displayed. 
So if he was unkind to his wife he must not be 
judged too harshly. Such a union as theirs could 
hardly be productive of happiness. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE QUEEN AND THE COURT 

WHILE the events just recorded point to 
the bad feeling between the Minister and 
the Queen, it is necessary to mention an idea very- 
prevalent, which was that Richelieu felt more 
love than hate for the royal lady ; and finding 
he could make no impression on her, he sought 
out of vengeance to injure her in the eyes of 
the King.^ 

No one had noticed his attentions or thought 
anything about them till these persecutions began, 
which lasted till the end of his life, but that Anne 
was conscious of them is certain. One day, finding 
himself alone with her, he burst into an impassioned 
address, and declared the burning love he felt for 
her. She was just about to rebuke him haughtily, 
and had turned a glance of withering scorn on 
him, when Louis entered the room and prevented 
her from speaking. The fitting opportunity being 
lost, she never chose to reopen the subject, not 
wishing the Cardinal to think that she considered 

' A little work was published at Cologne in 1692 called Les Amours 
(PAnne (VAiitriche avec le Cardifial Richelieu, which confirms this 
view. 

35 



36 VAL-DE-GRACE [chap, iv 

his mad words of sufficient importance even to be 
remembered. 

She only showed her consciousness of them by 
the contempt and hatred she could not conceal, and 
continued to refuse his advances and offers of 
friendship. Those about her, who did not love him 
either, helped to strengthen her feelings of aversion. 
Almost the whole court shared her sentiments, for 
all hated Richelieu. And there is no doubt that 
this open dislike displayed on all sides greatly 
increased Louis* aversion for his wife, he being so 
completely under the rule of his Minister. 

The real monarch of France was Richelieu, and 
his reign was by no means a bad one for the 
country. The evil reports spread abroad about him 
by the enemies of the State were proof that he 
did not pander to their wishes, and at all events 
served his Sovereign. 

Tormented by all these false accusations and 
unpleasantnesses, Anne began to weary of court 
life, and longed for some safe place where she might 
find peace ; and thinking that no fault could be found 
with such a pious wish as to build an abbey, she 
bought a piece of ground in the outskirts of Paris 
and laid the first stone herself^ It was called 
" Val-de-Grace," or sometimes " Le Val Profond," 
and La Mere d'Arbouze, a friend of the Queen, 
was chosen as abbess. 

But even in this sacred retreat poor Anne was 
allowed no peace. By Richelieu's advice the King 

* Mhiioires de Motteville^ vol. i. 



1628] ARCHBISHOP'S VISIT 37 

one day sent the Archbishop of Paris with orders 
to search the convent to see if any incriminating 
letters between the Queen and her brother, the 
King of Spain, might be found there. The frightened 
nuns ran hither and thither from cell to cloister, not 
knowing what fate was in store for them, till the 
Archbishop sternly ordered them to assemble in 
the great hall, and threatened them with excom- 
munication should they speak one to another. Then 
he demanded the keys to be brought, and personally 
searched every cell, including the one set apart for 
the Queen, in the hopes of finding the incriminating 
papers. 

None were, however, to be discovered, and all 
they saw were articles of discipline, such as hair 
shirts and belts studded with nails, so that the 
Chancellor Sequier, who accompanied the Arch- 
bishop, exclaimed : " Alas ! we have found exactly 
the opposite of that which we were searching 
for." ' 

All that they carried away and handed to Richelieu 
was a closed casket in the Queen's cell, which on 
being opened was found to contain English gloves, 
a present from Henrietta Maria. This domiciliary 
visit ever remained a painful memory in Anne's 
mind, and she could never speak of it without 
tears. 

The French court at that time was filled with 
lovely women. The Duchesse de Chevreuse and 
the Duchesse de Montbazon were among those 

' Mhnoires de Moitevillej vol. i. 



38 COURT BEAUTIES [chap, iv 

the fame of whose charms was noised abroad. The 
latter was a great beauty, tall and elegant ; she 
was noticed wherever she moved, her stately figure 
superior among the rest ; but her mind was not 
equal to her exquisite form. Her intelligence was 
limited, she was absolutely without talent, and 
could boast of one thing only — the number of her 
lovers. She and her beautiful daughter-in-law, the 
Princesse de Guemenee, used to dispute together 
as to which of them had the greater number of 
gallants. There was not much virtue or morality 
about the court of Louis XIII. But if the charms 
of these frail beauties were becoming somewhat 
passes, there were younger if less fair sirens about 
the palace : the Princesse Marie de Gonzague, 
afterwards the wearer of a royal crown; the hand- 
some Mademoiselle de Rohan, whose pride was 
unequalled and whose virtue was unassailable ; 
Mademoiselles de Guise, d'Hauteville, de Vendome, 
and many others who gathered round Anne, 
formed a galaxy of loveliness at the fetes at the 
Louvre, till the court at Paris became the envy of 
all other nations. 

Pre-eminent among them all was Anne of 
Austria — that is, if we may believe her faithful 
bed-chamber woman, Madame de Motteville, whose 
pen never wearied of writing of the charms of 
mind and body of her adored mistress. The Queen 
at that time had reached the zenith of her beauty. 
She wore her hair much curled and often powdered, 
but at times she allowed the beautiful locks to fall 



''''"Viat^rftfy 




After F. David. 



ANNE OF AUSTRIA. 



p 

1628] MARIE DE' MEDICI 39 

in ringlets of their natural colour in great luxuri- 
ance. Her skin was very white, but she spoilt 
the effect by wearing too much rouge, a fashion 
she had brought from Spain. Her hazel eyes 
were clear and limpid, and her mouth was 
small. Her lips were those of the House of 
Austria, which gave her a distinction apart from, 
and superior to, women of otherwise great beauty. 
Her figure and height completed the regal air 
which caused all eyes to be turned upon her. Later, 
the stoutness that we see in her portraits took away 
from this queenly beauty. 

Brilliant balls and State banquets succeeded each 
other, and on the surface all was bright and gay. 
The dark side of the picture lay in the person of 
Cardinal Richelieu, who worked in secret for the 
ruin of all those who stood in the way of his 
ambitions. From the first he had intrigued against 
the Queen-Mother and Anne. Marie de' Medici, 
who had contributed to the elevation of the 
Cardinal in the first instance, thought he was com- 
pletely at her feet and ready to do her bidding, but 
on his failing once to carry out her wishes, she 
found that he had neither oratitude nor willingness 

o o 

to serve her, and her former liking turned to 
bitterest hate.^ And this common dislike drew the 
two Queens together. After years of friction they 
suddenly formed a friendship ; perhaps Marie de' 
Medici had some compunction for the part she had 

^ Journal de Richelieu, dans les Archives cmieuses de FHisioire de 
France^ tome v. 



I 



40 QUEENS RECONCILED [chap, iv 

played. She was, moreover, not without uneasi- 
ness. In her endeavours to get the upper hand, 
she had come into angry contact with the Minister, 
and had found that she had quite overrated her 
strength. She lived in hourly fear of being 
arrested, and turned in this extremity to the young 
Queen, who, not being of a revengeful nature, 
was more than ready to hold out the hand of 
fellowship. 



CHAPTER V 

THE "COUP DE COMPlfeGNE " 

THE two Queens had gone to Compiegne 
together in January, 1631, and were holding 
the court there, the King having remained in Paris. 
A round of amusement was at once commenced, 
and carried on with much zest. After an evening 
spent in dance and song Anne was awakened 
from a sound sleep at a very early hour the 
following morning by some one knocking at her 
door ; she called to her women to know if it 
was by any chance the King, he being the only 
one who could thus summon her in this familiar 
fashion.^ She had thrown aside the curtains of 
her bed, and saw that the light was still faint, so 
she knew the hour was very early, and her mind 
was filled with alarm. An unknown terror per- 
vaded her. What could the King's presence at 
such an untoward time mean but a menace against 
her person, or perhaps the order for her exile. 
Gathering all her failing courage, she prepared 
herself to receive the blow, whatever it might be. 
" Open the door," she said to her trembling women 
in a firm voice, for whatever her faults, Anne was 

' Memoires de Motteville^ vol. i. 

41 6 



42 THE QUEEN'S BED-CHAMBER [chap, v 

no coward, nor did she flinch when she saw who 
it was that craved admittance — for it was the Keeper 
of the King's Seals, and his presence seemed but 
to confirm her fears. 

The bedroom of royalty in those days appears 
to have been open to all comers, and the idea 
that it was intrusion on a lady's privacy did not 
seem to occur to any of them. 

The King's ambassador, bowing low, approached 
the bedside, and informed Anne that it was his 
royal master's pleasure that the Queen-Mother 
should be considered under arrest, and that it was 
his desire that his wife should hold no communi- 
cation with the disgraced Queen, but that she 
should repair without loss of time to the Church 
of the Capucines, where he intended to meet her. 

It was a strange scene : the half-darkened 
chamber, the hastily lighted taper that one of the 
women was holding, throwing dark shadows among 
the rich hangings of the couch, blended with the 
faint light of the coming dawn seen through the 
open casement. The ambassador, booted and 
spurred and travel-stained, looked from the scared 
white faces of the ladies to the fair young Queen, 
who, seated erect under the crimson canopy of her 
bed, with dishevelled hair, listened with a calm 
countenance, on which, however, intense surprise 
was depicted, to the orders of her husband the King. 

She simply bowed her acknowledgments of these 
orders, and, requesting the withdrawal of the royal 
messenger, proceeded to rise with all haste. Not, 



i63i] THE QUEEN-MOTHER 43 

however, with the idea of obeying them, for she 
determined to hasten at once to her mother-in- 
law's room. Only half attired, with a morning 
robe thrown over her nightdress, and with hair 
unbound, Anne ran down the private corridor 
and tapped gently at the door. 

"It is I — Anne," she exclaimed; "let me come 
in," as she turned the handle and entered. 

The Queen-Mother, who had also been startled 
out of her sleep by the unusual noises, was sitting 
up in bed, crouched in an attitude of fear, with 
her hands clasped round her knees. 

"Oh, my daughter," she cried. "Am I to be 
murdered, or made a prisoner ? What is the King's 
good pleasure ? " 

The Queen, filled with compassion, threw herself 
into the arms of the elder woman, folding her in 
a warm embrace, and, forgetting all the insults 
that Marie de' Medici had at one time heaped 
upon her, mingled her tears with those of her 
disgraced mother. 

These royal ladies knew well that they were 
the victims of Richelieu's malice, who was the 
enemy of both alike ; but they did not realise that 
that embrace was to be their last. When Anne 
had hurriedly told her tale she begged leave to 
withdraw, as she had to make the necessary toilet 
to join the King as she had been directed to do. 

When left alone the Queen- Mother faced the 
situation. She was terrified at the idea of the 
prison at Compiegne, at the same time she was 



44 "COUP DE COMPIEGNE" [chap, v 

anxious not to implicate her daughter-in-law, whom 
she had at last learnt to love very dearly. Nothing 
was left for her but flight, and this she determined 
to effect without loss of time. 

With all haste she made her preparations, calling 
her women about her ; and without state or suite, 
without jewels, or even the necessaries of life, the 
proud Marie de' Medici, once all-powerful, in disguise, 
and accompanied only by her women, fled by a 
back door and mounting into a common hired vehicle 
was within a few hours wending her way towards 
the frontier; while Anne, who had obediently set 
off to the Capucines to meet the King, was quite 
unaware of what was going on in the palace in 
her absence, and not daring to risk Louis' dis- 
pleasure, she returned to Paris with him still in 
ignorance of the flight of the old Queen.' This 
was called the '' Coup de Compiegne," and it was 
said that the whole thing was a ruse on the part 
of Richelieu, who wished to remove Marie de' Medici 
out of his way.' Be this as it may, the King 
knew well that the nation at large blamed him 
greatly for his most unfilial conduct, and the severity 
that was meted out by his orders to his mother's 
adherents also called forth much indignation. 

Anxious to propitiate his people, he treated his 
wife somewhat better, and saw her more often, and as 
she was greatly beloved, this gave much satisfaction. 

^ Marie de' Medici reached Flanders in safety. She wandered 
about for some years, and at last died, overcome by misery and sorrow, 
at Cologne in 1642. 

* Memoires de la Porte, 



1633] RETURN OF THE DUCHESS 45 

Richelieu also saw fit to curry favour with the 
Queen by recalling the Duchesse de Chevreuse 
from her exile in Lorraine. No doubt the wily 
lady promised the Cardinal to do everything that 
he wished ; perhaps he was not insensible to her 
personal charms. She was only thirty, and in the 
height of her beauty. The Queen loved her, and 
could not do without her, and for that reason 
Madame de Chevreuse had lost the good graces of 
the Minister, as he was bent on preventing any 
intimacies that interfered with his plans, but it 
suited his policy of the moment to bring her back. 

Happy in the society of her friend, Anne, who 
was young and sanguine, re-entered upon her life 
with fresh zest. She cast behind her the troubles 
and worries of the past, and, forgetting even her 
enemy Richelieu, passed her time in diversion and 
mirth. One desire of her heart, however, remained 
ungratified, and that was to become the mother 
of a Dauphin ; this indeed was the earnest wish 
of the whole country. 

But if on the surface all was calm, the Minister 
was working none the less against the Queen. All 
the futile cabals of which she had been guilty 
were made known at once to Richelieu by his spies, 
although for various reasons he gave no sign 
of having discovered the Queen's many political 
intrigues with her Spanish relations. 

In 1633 Fran9ois de Rochechouart, Chevalier de 
Jars, who had fallen under the ban of the Cardinal's 
displeasure, was recalled from his exile in England, 



45 HER MIDNIGHT VISITS [chap, v 

where he had been sent on account of his attach- 
ment to the Queen. 

Richelieu, who looked upon him as one of the 
chief conspirators, finding that he was spending 
the period of his disgrace very agreeably, had him 
recalled. Chateauneuf, Keeper of the Seals and 
lover of the fair Chevreuse, was implicated as well, 
and the Cardinal was determined on the downfall of 
them both. The Duchess was once more exiled 
from court, but only as far as her Chateau de Dam- 
pierre. It was not very distant from the capital, and 
often at dusk she would come disguised as a man 
to Paris, and meet the Queen either at the Louvre 
or at the convent of Val-de-Grace, where the good 
sisters were ever ready to aid and abet her. The 
pleasure of the meeting was doubled by the risk 
they ran, and the adventurous Duchess would 
return after midnight to Dampierre, riding through 
the night with only one trusty servant. Needless 
to say, these visits were discovered, and she was 
ordered back to Touraine. The punishment was 
a severe one to the lovely Duchess, who was at an 
age when she might naturally wish for amusement. 
Buried in the country, far from Paris, f5olitics, and 
intrigue, the only entertainment she could find was 
turning the head of the old Archbishop of Tours, and 
when this diversion began to pall she encouraged 
the visits of the young and amiable Comte de 
la Rochefoucauld.^ For four long years, till 1637, 
this life went on, and all the time she kept up an 

* Memoires de la Rochefoucauld^ p. 335, 



1633] CHEVALIER DE JARS 47 

active correspondence with the Queen, Henrietta 
Maria, the Queen of Spain, and Charles of 
Lorraine, till even that seasoned adventurer fell a 
victim to her charms. The Queen wrote most of 
her letters at Val-de-Grace, and her confidential 
valet, La Porte, carried them back and forward, 
and to his memoirs we are indebted for these 
details of the Queen's private life.^ 

Meanwhile her fellow-culprit, the Chevalier de 
Jars, was having a far worse fate. He too was 
accused of complicity with the enemies of the 
King. He was arrested and sent to the Bastille, 
where he was kept in a dark cell for eleven months. 
It was in winter that this happened, and the black 
velvet coat he was wearing at the time remained 
on his person without being taken off during the 
whole of his incarceration.^ He was led out to be 
interrogated eighty times, and he always replied 
to the charges brought against him with firmness 
and wisdom, never allowing himself to be implicated 
on any point, nor in any way endangering the 
safety of others. 

One day he was suddenly removed by a guard, 
with all the appearance of being about to be taken to 
execution ; and as they were going down the steps at 
the main entrance he saw a group consisting of the 
Marechal de Bassompierre, the Marquis de Vieuville, 
Vautier, the late physician of Marie de' Medici, 
and others who were prisoners, but who had been 

' Mdinoires de la Porte. 
» Ibid. 



48 "HANGMAN TO THE CARDINAL" [chap, v 

more humanely treated than himself. De Jars knew 
not what might be in store for him. Turning towards 
them he exclaimed, " Gentlemen, adieu. I know 
not whither I go. Rest assured whatever may be 
my fate I am a man of honour, and will never fail 
towards either my friends or myself, or betray 
either." ' 

He was taken to Troyes, where he was brought 
before the judge Laffemas, who had already 
tormented him at the Bastille, and who was com- 
monly known by the title of " Hangman to the 
Cardinal." 

A number of judges much of the same calibre 
formed a court, and they sought, by the means only 
such men knew how to employ, to make the Chevalier 
de Jars incriminate himself or others. They tried 
to bribe false witnesses, but one of their number, 
the Prevot de I'He, who had accompanied De Jars f 
from Paris, declined to be a party to any such 
manoeuvre. 

Laffemas knew well the wishes of Richelieu, 
which were not to take the life of the Chevalier, 
being too sure of his innocence to risk such a 
proceeding, and having, moreover, no proof by 
which he could bring about his condemnation. But 
he wished to work upon his fears by the apparent 
certainty of death, that he might be induced to 
give up the secret of the Queen's intrigue, that of 
Madame de Chevreuse, and of Chateauneuf, Keeper 
of the Seals, who was also implicated. 
' Memoires de Motteville. 



1633] SCENE AT THE ALTAR 49 

Laftemas had promised Richelieu that he would 
so torment his victim that he would by degrees 
draw out of him enough to suit their purpose, and 
he so interrogated and threatened the Chevalier 
that, had he had a different sort of victim, he might 
have succeeded in his endeavours. 

On All Saints' Day this treacherous judge,, 
wishing to appear kindly disposed towards his 
prisoner, allowed him to attend mass ; for this 
purpose a band of archers and the guard of the 
town escorted him to church. At the steps of the 
altar the Chevalier perceived Laffemas with his wife 
receiving the Holy Sacrament. He was the chief 
man of the province, but far more feared than liked. 
De Jars was a man of a passionate nature, and 
absolutely without fear, and, seeing this man in the 
act of receiving the chief blessing of the Church, 
he tore himself loose from his guards, and throwing 
himself upon Laffemas seized him by the throat, 
exclaiming : 

" Traitor ! With the Creator that you worship on 
your lips, now is the moment to tell the truth, and 
to justify me before God and man. Avow my 
innocence, or else be known of all men as a 
villain." ^ 

At this outcry the people gathered round them ; 
some shrugged their shoulders, but most murmured 
against this unjust judge. 

The Prevot de ITle tried to separate the two 
men, who still struggled together, but the Chevalier 
' Mimoires de Motteville^ vol. i. 

7 



50 -". DE JARS CONDEMNED [chap, v 

de Jars would not let go his man, and still pressed 
for an answer. 

When Laffemas at last could speak he replied 
coldly : 

" Monsieur, you have nothing to complain of; 
the Cardinal loves you well." 

He further added that De Jars would be probably 
released and sent to Italy, but that some of his own 
letters in their possession might prove his guilt. 

The Chevalier did not understand what they 
were driving at, and thought himself lost. He was 
brought once more before the tribunal, and defended 
himself with such courage that he confounded those 
who sought to implicate his friends. As he was 
leaving the court the Prevot de file approached 
him and said : 

" Monsieur, be of good courage, I have hopes 
for you. My orders are to bring you back to the 
same prison, while if a man is condemned he is 
generally taken elsewhere." 

The Chevalier replied : 

*• I thank you, my friend, for your encouraging 
words, but those rascals intend to condemn me ; I 
see it in their faces. Be certain, however, that I 
intend to die without infamy, and the Cardinal will 
see that I care neither for him nor his tortures." 

As soon as the prisoner had left the hall Laffemas 
produced a letter which he showed to the other 
judges. It came from the Cardinal, or rather from 
the King, and ran as follows : — 

** If the Chevalier is condemned to the rack, let 



1633] AND REPRIEVED 51 

this letter be shown to him ; if he is condemned 
to death, suspend the execution." 

De Jars was condemned to death, and was led 
out upon the scaffold, where he showed the most 
absolute calmness and courage. He defied his 
enemies and his judges, and prepared to meet his 
end with all firmness, trusting in God and com- 
mittinof himself to His all-sfracious love and care. 
Having thus fortified his soul, he knelt down to 
receive the final blow, and then only was his 
reprieve produced. Dazed, almost without feeling 
or power of speech, and hardly knowing if he was 
dead or alive, he was led away, and Richelieu's 
vengeance was satisfied. The torture had not been 
meted out to him alone. The Queen, informed 
day by day of what was going on, lived in a state 
of extreme tension, and when the fatal day drew 
near could neither eat nor sleep. She swooned 
away when the news was brought to her of his 
reprieve, for she had already seen him in imagina- 
tion a corpse on the scaffold, and she suffered 
almost as much as if the fatal deed had been 
actually perpetrated. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE POWER OF RICHELIEU 

THE Queen and her friends thought that they 
worked in absolute secrecy, but they were 
shadowed wherever they went by Richelieu's agents, 
and at last Madame de Chevreuse determined to 
flee, thinking it preferable to remaining a prisoner. 

On September 6, 1637, after a private and 
tender farewell of the Queen, she went out for her 
ordinary drive, taking care to go where most people 
should see her, so that her designs might not be 
suspected. She returned to the palace at dusk, 
and having changed her costume for that of a man, 
she slipped out of a side door, mounted her horse 
and rode off unattended save by two men, also 
mounted. The court beauty, who had been waited 
on from her childhood, found herself without her 
waiting-women, with no map of the country, not 
even a change of apparel, riding on the lonely 
and dangerous road in the starlight of that autumn 
night, hardly sure of the direction in which she 
was going. It was nearly dawn when they reached 
a chateau at Ruffec belonging to the Comte de la 
Rochefoucauld. She did not demand hospitality 
from him, though she knew well he would have 

52 



1637] ADVENTURES OF Mme. DE CHEVREUSE 53 

carried out her slightest wish. Perhaps she feared 
to endanger his safety, but she wrote him the 
following: note : — 



'& 



" Monsieur, 

" I am a French seigneur, and I implore 
your help. I have just fought a duel, and have 
been unfortunate enough to kill my adversary, a 
man of position. It is necessary, therefore, that 
I should leave France without loss of time, for 
they are already in pursuit of me. I know you 
are generous, and so I beg of you to lend me a 
carriage and a servant." 

Whether the Count had any suspicion of the 
truth or not, like a true gentleman he at once sent 
the desired aid to the fugitive, and, worn out by 
her long ride, Madame de Chevreuse sank grate- 
fully among the cushions of the coach. 

In the middle of the second night she came to 
another house belonging to La Rochefoucauld. 
Here she left the carriage, and started for the 
frontier on horseback. 

When she arrived there her saddle was covered 
with blood. She declared she had been wounded 
in the thigh, probably in an encounter with some 
of the marauding bands that infested the land, and 
weak from the loss of blood she dared go no 
further. She turned into a side path which led 
to an old grange, where she threw herself exhausted 
on a heap of straw. So lovely did she look as 



54 ARRIVAL IN SPAIN [chap, vi 

she lay, in the black velvet costume of a nobleman 
that she wore, that a good countrywoman who 
came by stopped full of admiration to look at the 
weary stranger. 

" This is the handsomest boy I have ever seen," 
she exclaimed. " Sir, you fill me with pity ; come, 
I beg of you, and rest at my house." It was 
difficult to get the good soul to understand that ^^he^ 
youth she so admired preferred to be left in peace.^ 

In spite of all her hardships and difficulties, 

Madame de Chevreuse's courage and energy 

never deserted her. Her gay and buoyant nature 

rose above every trouble, and the thousand perils 

she went through only made her spirits rise 

the higher. She thought, too, of everything, and 

had already sent her jewels to La Rochefoucauld, 

partly that he might take care of them, and 

partly as a sort of legacy should anything happen 

to her.^ The mountain-passes and the gloomy 

defiles did not daunt her ardent mind — it is even 

said she swam one of the rivers — and she succeeded 

in reaching Spain, and was able at last to rest from 

her travels in safety. Once her arrival was made 

known, she received the greatest attention from the 

Spanish Government. As the intimate friend of 

their Infanta they loaded her with kindness. Her 

journey to Madrid was of triumphal progress, 

and Philippe showed her every attention in his 

^ Tallemant, Extraits de Vlnjormation^ vol. i. p. 250. 

^ Extrait de t Information faite par le President Vigner de la 
sortie faite par Madame de Chevreuse, hors de France, Bibliograph 
National Collection Du Puv^ N** 499. 



I 



i637] RICHELIEU'S POWER 55 

power — indeed, report said, far more than was at 
all necessary for his sister's lady-in-waiting. 

As to poor Anne, her little gleam of conjugal 
happiness was short-lived. To attempt to live in 
harmony with Louis was more than could be 
expected of her. She gradually grew accustomed 
to her life of solitude, and the practices of religion 
filled up her time, which was divided between pious 
acts and the gossip of her friends, who brought 
her the news of the day ; she was not, however, 
surrounded by altogether desirable people. Some- 
times she and they plotted against Richelieu, but 
these poor feeble women could do but little against 
that master mind. The saturnine Cardinal must 
often have laughed at their puny efforts — indeed, 
he held both King and Queen in the hollow of his 
hand. He treated the latter in the most arrogant 
manner. Once when the court was at St. Germain 
the Queen drove into Paris, and when she was near 
the Tuileries she met His Eminence's coach, he 
having just driven in from his country house at 
Rueil. He actually had the insolence to call out to 
the royal coachman to stop that he might find out 
what was Her Majesty's business. Anne naturally 
was furious, and ordered the coachman to proceed. 

Richelieu was much offended at her taking such 
a tone with him ; the Queen would not allow herself 
to be pacified, and, in the words of the faithful La 
Porte, " II y eut un grand d^mele." ^ 

But if the tyranny of Richelieu was galling to 
' Mdmoires de la Porte^ p. 91. 



4 

i 



56 THE UNHAPPY KING [chap, vi 

many about the court, Louis was almost as great a 
sufferer from it as the rest. The King, under the 
thraldom of his favourite, had become a regular 
puppet. He led the most melancholy and miserable 
existence, without power, without a suite, without 
a pleasure. He lived mostly at Saint Germain like 
a private individual ; and while his armies besieged 
towns and fought battles, he occupied himself chiefly 
in snaring birds. 

He really was the most unhappy prince in 
Europe. He did not love his Queen, and felt 
nothing but aversion and coldness towards her, and 
at the same time he was a martyr to his passion for 
Madame de Hauteville, which possessed him entirely 
and added to his torments, for at times he 
suspected her of being in league with the Queen, 
and making fun of him and his attentions. He 
was jealous of the state and greatness of his 
Minister, though it was his own doing that the 
Cardinal had attained to such heights ; and anger, 
first smouldering, then began to blaze up in his 
heart against the mighty Richelieu. All the same, 
he could not live without him, and was not happy 
a minute out of his sight. Jealousy was the key- 
note of his character, and never happy himself, he 
could not bear others to be happy either. 

During the three years' war from 1635 to 
1637, when the Imperialists penetrated into 
Picardy, and were within three days' march of 
the capital, there was a regular call to arms, and 
every man who could fight for the Sovereign en- 



i637] A SLAVE TO RICHELIEU 57 

listed at once. Among those anxious to do so was 
La Porte, and he begged the Queen to give him 
leave. Anne was in despair. He held all her 
secrets, carried all her letters, and she knew not 
how to do without him. While they were dis- 
cussing the matter, the King entered the room, and, 
joining in the conversation, demanded of the Queen 
what were her objections. She dared not reveal 
her real ones, but pleaded need for his services. 
Louis, who was ever jealous of her faithful servants, 

exclaimed angrily, " I insist on it. La Porte shall 

>> 
go- 

" It was but to annoy me," said Anne sadly when 
the King had left her ^ ; but La Porte had to go. 
In his absence an intrigue in which he had been 
employed was discovered, and he was thrown into 
the Bastille, and the Queen, in extreme terror, made 
a full avowal of her fault to Richelieu, and signed a 
solemn engagement never again to commit a similar 
offence, whereupon the Minister promised in return 
to mediate for her a complete reconciliation with 
her husband. This was accordingly effected, and 
Richelieu once more triumphed. Every day 
his power increased. His rightful Sovereign had 
become his slave, and he held the proudest position 
in Europe, with the most illustrious monarch of the 
world at his feet. 

' Memoires de la Poric, p. 107. 



CHAPTER VII 

MAZARIN 

A GRAND and brilliant reception was being 
held at the Louvre one evening. The long 
corridors were filled with all the flower of the 
French nobility. Wealth and beauty, jewels and 
court dresses rendered the scene a gay and sparkling 
one, and foremost among all was the Queen. 
The years as they had passed had added to her 
beauty, and she was considered one of the hand- 
somest women of her day. She was then in her 
prime, with a fine figure, and that air of majesty 
which inspired respect and admiration. She had 
at the same time a very feminine gentleness, 
and a sweetness of disposition which lent a grace 
and charm to her attractions. Her beautiful eyes 
had already caused havoc among the hearts of men, 
and they had lost none of their power. As she 
moved among her courtiers in her royal robes 
and sparkling jewels, many an admiring glance 
was cast upon her. 

Where she stood the centre of attraction, Cardinal 
Richelieu approached, leading towards her a stranger 
attired in the violet robe of a dignitary of the 
Church and with that veiled insolence which the 

58 



1637] MAZARIN'S PARENTAGE 59 

Minister so often affected, he introduced him to 
the Queen, saying : 

" Madame, you will like him ; he has an air of 
Buckingham." ^ 

Whether these words were said or not, this was 
the manner in which Guilio Mazarin and Anne 
of Austria were brought face to face, and from 
that day their lives were strangely intermingled. 
Of the early history of this man, destined to be 
so famous, the details are somewhat scanty. In 
'I601 a man of obscure family of the name of 
Pietro lived in a small village or bourg called 
Mazarino. His calling was uncertain ; he has 
been diversely credited with being a manufacturer 
of rosaries, a straw-hat maker of Palermo, a fisher- 
man, a banker, a Sicilian gentleman. 

This very variety of titles shows how ignorant 
the generations to come often are of the social 
or, business standing of unimportant personages 
who yet have left their mark in some shape or 
other on the world. Of one thing we may be certain 
— he was not a mere working artisan, and must 
have been possessed of a certain amount of worldly 
goods, for he aspired to the hand and married the 
• daughter of his patron, Ortensia Ruffalini. 

It is not known where the young couple settled 
down, nor where their firstborn saw the light. It was 
July 14, 1602, on which Guilio or Jules was born, 
some say in Rome, others at Piscina in the Abruzzi.^ 

^ Talleniant des Reaux^ vol. ii. p. 232. 

' Amedee Renee inclines to the latter theory, and gives as his 
authority the acte de batenie. 



6o MAZARIN'S YOUTH [chap, vii 

By this time the family, probably for their 
aggrandisement, had taken the name of Pietro's 
native village, by which they were henceforth 
known ; but Guilio always signed himself Mazarini 
till he succeeded Richelieu as Minister. 

He was educated at a Jesuit College in Rome^ 
where he acquired the knowledge and train of 
thought which enabled him to enter the line of 
life which eventually led him to the highest 
dignities. In his youth he had no idea of joining 
the Church. He was a bright, clever boy, with a 
surprising memory, so that learning came easy to 
him ; but at that time he was by no means a 
student or a candidate for religion. His passion 
was play, gaming being very prevalent in Europe 
at that time. Even in Rome under the eye of his 
father he indulged in this pastime, which probably 
was the reason why he was sent to Madrid, with 
the idea of studying law there. 

But change of residence did not alter the 
character of young Mazarini. He entered into 
the amusements of the capital, and repaired once 
more to the gaming-tables, losing all the small 
fortune he possessed. He turned away from the 
card-table in despair, exclaiming, " A man without 
money is a senseless beast good for nothing ! " ^ 
and it is hard to say what might not have 
happened to him at this crisis had he not been 
followed from the gaming-house by a Spanish 
notary, who from the interest that he took in 
* Amedee Renee. 



1637] HIS PASSION FOR GAMBLING 6i 

him must have known something of him or his 
family. 

He offered him money for his immediate wants, 
and kindly pressed him to return to his own home 
with him. 

Though Mazarini could not know how momentous 
this step might have proved to him, it nearly 
changed the whole current of his life. In the 
Spanish home where he was so warmly welcomed 
was a charming senorita, the daughter of his host. 
Youth and beauty are drawn together as by a 
magnet. It took but a few days for the net to 
close in around him. The father offered to take 
him into his business, the girl's bright eyes flashed 
out a still more winning invitation. 

Had the temptation caused Mazarini to consent, 
the whole course of history would have been 
changed. But the turbulent spirit within him craved 
for fresh excitement. The passion of gambling 
was still strong upon him ; love may have attracted 
him, but domesticity did not. Once more he 
sought the tables, and this time won largely. 

He was only a boy of twenty, so it was not 
strange that he allowed himself to be absorbed in the 
pleasures natural to his age ; but to his credit be it 
said, he did not give up all else to this occupation. 
He might have become a mere devotee to cards, 
instead of which, having now the means, he gave 
himself up to study. His mind triumphed over 
his inclinations, his natural ability lifted him up, 
and having obtained the post of cameriere to a 



62 MAZARIN'S RELATIONS [chap, vn 

prelate, he was drawn once more into a clerical 
circle. 

But a commonplace existence did not suit 
Guilio Mazarini ; the hot blood within him surged 
up once more, and the adventurous life of a soldier 
next appealed to him. He joined the " Compagnie- 
Colonelle " of the Papal Army, and was given the 
rank of captain. He entered into his new career 
with zest, fighting being relieved at intervals by 
cards and dice, and only returned to Rome when 
the campaign was over. 

Perhaps the tears and entreaties of his mother may 
have influenced him, for he laid down his sword and 
changed his soldier's habit for that of a civilian, and, 
the talent of which he had given proof so early having 
now the opportunity of developing, he joined the 
legates, and was sent on several diplomatic missions.^ 

Money now began to flow into his once empty 
coffers, and family affection, always a strong 
trait in his character, prompted him to help his 
sisters in every way possible. He made up a 
match between the eldest and Count Girolamo 
Martinozzi, and married the second, Hyeronyma by 
name, to Lozenzo Mancini. Their beauty had 
something to do with these excellent marriages, but 
more was owing to the name their brother by 
this time had made for himself Indeed, the whole 
family had risen in the world, for Pietro's wife and 

^ When Richelieu came away from the first interview he had with 
Mazarin he said, " I have just been speaking to the greatest man 
the State has ever had" (Michaud, Biblio. Universelle). 



1637] THE VIOLET ROBES 63 

the mother of his children being dead, he had 
married again, - this time a lady of noble birth, 
Portia Orsini, of the House of Orsini. 

Their success in life naturally brought down upon 
them the sneers of their less fortunate acquaintance, 
and Scarron, who passed as a wit, and was a poet 
with a biting tongue, wrote some satirical verses 
on the subject.^ But those who rise can afford to 
overlook the jealousy of those they have left behind 
in the race, and take little heed of the ill-natured 
remarks their good fortune has called down upon 
them. 

Mazarini must have always had a leaning towards 
the Church, at least towards its dignities, for 
he was favoured by Cardinal Barberini, who had 
taken an immense fancy to him, and had him ap- 
pointed Nuncio Extraordinary to France. Mazarin, 
as he was now called, put on the violet robes and 
stockings of a Monsignore, which he never after- 
wards gave up, and he arrived in Paris with the 
state befitting his position, as well as his tastes, 
with a train of hangers-on and lackeys, and followed 
by a hundred and twenty-two carriages. 

Many stories were told as to his first appearance 
in Paris society. One that has often been credited 
as true ^ was that he appeared at the Palais Royal 
one evening, and the lords and ladies who 
were gambling pressed the good-looking new 

' " Fils et petit-fils d'un faquin, 

Qui diffame la Casa Ursine 

Par ralliance Mazarine." 
* Mimoires de Retz. 



64 ANNE AND MAZARIN [chap, vn 

arrival to take part in the game. This Mazarin 
did willingly, in the hopes of attracting the atten- 
tion of the Queen. His luck was so phenomenal 
that every one gathered round, watching the pile 
of gold growing beside him, and among the 
number was Anne. He continued playing till some 
90,000 ecus had fallen to his share. As he rose 
from the table he pressed 50,000 ecus into the 
hands of the Queen's chamberlain, and begged him 
to present them with his profoundest respects to 
Her Majesty. She refused the gift at first, but the 
persuasions of the soft-voiced Italian made her at 
last give way. 

This story is, however, most highly improbable, 
and has no good authority to support it. No man, 
whatever his position, would have dared to take 
such a step as this. The real moment, fraught with 
deepest importance, when Anne of Austria and the 
great Mazarin, destined to become lovers, first met, 
was when Richelieu, little thinking to what a high 
estate his new protege would reach, presented him 
in the manner already mentioned. 

At that time Mazarin was about thirty-seven 
years of age, ten months younger than the Queen. 
He had been well endowed by nature, as his many 
portraits prove. 

He was tall and fresh-coloured, with a noble 
carriage. His features were large, his nose rather 
prominent, and his forehead lofty, token of the 
intellect of which he ever gave such proof. His 
hair was chestnut colour, his beard of a much 



1637] RACONTEUR AND WIT 6$ 

darker hue, both with a natural wave. He is 
mostly depicted with a moustache. His eyes, deep 
and inscrutable, were always full of fire. He 
had beautifully shaped white hands, shaded by the 
lace frills of his sleeve, curiously like those of the 
Queen. ^ 

As to his attributes, he was agreeable, with 
charming manners, a good raconteur, and a wit. 

Such was the man brought in contact with this 
royal lady of Spanish birth. Of a passionate 
temperament, with little to occupy her idle moments 
and still less to fill the cravings of her heart, 
accustomed from childhood to live surrounded by 
gallantry and intrigue, it was a new life, full 
of momentous issues, which was thus opening 
before her. 

' M/mozres de Brienne, 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE CONSPIRACY OF CINQ MARS AND DEATH OF 
RICHELIEU 

ON September 5, 1638, an event took place at 
St. Germain which fulfilled the hopes of the 
whole nation : the Queen gave birth to a son. If 
it caused the greatest joy to her people, it was a 
blessing sent from heaven for herself She was 
menaced with much trouble, surrounded by- 
many enemies, and had been humiliated even to 
the extent of having been made to sign with her 
royal hand a most humbly worded paper setting 
forth that she was guilty of all the charges 
brought against her ; and with complete subjection 
she had been made to ask forgiveness of the 
King. This was not done without many tears, and 
very ungentle force was used to make her comply.^ 
She was only supported by the knowledge that 
every one believed her innocent. Now her hour^ 
of triumph had come : she was a mother. France 
rang with joyous acclamations, and all hoped that 
the King her husband would now believe her 
word and take counsel with her. 

But concord between them was impossible as long 
as the dark shadow divided them, in the person of 

^ Coll. Petitot, Mmioires de Motteville. 
66 



1639] THE DAUPHIN (,y 

the hated Minister. Anne was too generous-minded 
to denounce him, too proud to seek his friendship. 
She could only trust to time relieving her from this 
danger, and her happiness was increased the 
following year by the birth of another son. 

Louis had taken but scant notice of his firstborn ; 
this second infant had a far larger share of his 
attention. He had never thought to be the father 
of two sons. Strangely enough, before he was three 
years old the little Dauphin was a source of 
annoyance to the King. Whether he disliked his 
heir, or whether he did not understand the ways of 
little children, nothing ever drew the father and son 
together. Once when the King had returned from 
a long day's hunting and was resting before the fire 
in the Queen's boudoir with a nightcap on his head, 
the little Prince, who was just learning to walk, 
toddled into the room, and not recognising his 
parent in that unfamiliar headgear, took him for a 
stranger, and burst into floods of tears. This 
annoyed the King most unreasonably ; he made 
it quite a matter of importance, and complained 
about it to the Queen, declaring that the boy had 
drawn his fear and hatred of his father from the 
nourishment at her maternal bosom, a hatred which 
she had fostered in her children ; should such a 
thing occur again both of them should be taken 
away from her.^ 

As to the "petit monsieur," as the second boy, 
Philippe Due d'Anjou, was always called, he was a 

* Mimoires de Motteville, 



6S MARQUIS DE CINQ MARS [chap, vm 

great pet with both his parents, and it would indeed 
have gone hardly with the mother had she been 
called upon to part with him. About this time 
an incident occurred which clouded with dishonour 
the last years of Louis XIII. 

He had at that time as equerry the gay and 
brilliant Henri d'Effiat, Marquis de Cinq Mars, 
commonly known at court as M. Le Grand, on 
account of his appointment as " Grand Ecuyer." 
He had been specially placed about the King's 
person by Cardinal Richelieu, and Louis had 
become extremely fond of him. 

The King, when about to proceed with his suite 
to Nantes on some special business of State, took 
a fairly cordial farewell of the Queen, telling her 
to take care of the children, and never to leave 
them for a moment. There was litde need for 
such an injunction. Anne stood smiling her fare- 
wells, with her little sons standing beside her, and 
wished the King a prosperous journey. 

M. de Cinq Mars was of the party, and having 
like the rest a grievance against his former patron 
Richelieu, he took the opportunity of pouring his 
woes into the royal ear, and did his best to inflame 
the jealousy that Louis was known to display towards 
the Minister. Cinq Mars may have had good 
reason for his wrath against Richelieu ; but the 
result of his endeavours to wreak his vengeance 
upon his enemy led to very serious consequences. 
The history of the conspiracy of Cinq Mars is 
too well known to all readers of Alfred de Vigny 's 



1642] HIS ARREST 69 

famous romance to need repetition ; he incited 
the King to rise in rebellion against his own State, 
under cover of the name of his brother, the Due 
d'Orleans. The Due de Bouillon was their chief 
adviser, but great projects were formed, founded 
on the notion that the Cardinal, who was very ill, 
would not live many days. False prudence 
brought about their ruin ; Cinq Mars only half- 
trusted his royal master, and entered into an 
alliance with the King of Spain, on whom he 
thought he might rely for succour should Louis be 
too weak, and Richelieu prove too much for him. 

At that time the Cardinal was lying ill at 
Tarascon, more or less out of favour, and hated 
by the whole country. But though weak in health, 
this crafty statesman was still able to bring his 
powerful mind to bear on the subject. Through 
M. de Chavigny he learned all about this treaty 
with Spain. Using him as a messenger, for his 
own weakness prevented him from moving himself, 
he was able to reach the royal presence, and M. de 
Chavigny persuaded the weak Louis, who was 
swayed first by one and then by another, that if 
Cinq Mars was allowed to proceed unchecked the 
throne would be endangered. 

With a copy of the treaty before him, containing 
positive proof of his treason, the King could do 
nothing but order the arrest of Cinq Mars on 
June 12, 1642. Thus in a few hours the aspect of 
affairs was changed, and thanks to the skill of his 
envoy, Richelieu found himself once more in favour, 



70 CINQ MARS ON THE SCAFFOLD [chap, vm 

and he lost no time in bringing his enemies to 
the dust. M. de Thou, his former personal friend, 
was to be made an example of, and the traitor 
Cinq Mars was doomed. 

In his joy at having triumphed, Richelieu even . 
made the King come from Narbonne to Tarascon 
to visit him at his bedside, and Louis, falling once 
more under his dominion, was willing to sacrifice 
without a murmur the man whom a few days 
before he had loaded with caresses. But if the 
story of Cinq Mars reflects little credit on the 
Monarch, it was a lasting infamy to the Minister. 
Almost dying himself, he took his prisoner in 
a boat attached to his own barge, and sailed 
up the Rhone to Lyons in the manner of the 
Roman consuls, who dragged their vanquished 
foes behind their chariot wheels. Cinq Mars and 
De Thou were brought to the scaffold together, 
and died with the courage so often displayed 
at such moments, in a manner worthy of their 
race. The King feebly intended to save Cinq 
Mars at the end, but was practically powerless to 
do so. The nation at large deplored his untimely 
death ; ladies wept over his loss — none more so 
than Marie de Gonzague, who had loved him. 

If Richelieu ruled over his Sovereign, he began 
himself to fall under the sway of another. Mazarin's ' 
star was in the ascendant. It was Richelieu who 
procured him the Cardinalate, and he had received 
his barette from the hands of Louis, February 25, 
of the same year. 



1642] DEATH OF RICHELIEU 71 

In the Minister's growing weakness he felt the 
need of some one to lean on, and he daily turned 
to Mazarin for help and comfort. What memories 
must have assailed that death-bed ! what tardy- 
repentances must have agonised his soul ! That 
vengeance over his enemies at Lyons was his last. 
His sufferings increased daily, and he was with 
difficulty brought back to Paris. 

In the end he died like a saint, but he had not 
lived like a Christian, nor would he forgive his 
enemies, declaring to the last that he had none, that 
they were the enemies of the State. 

He expired in the arms of the King, December 4, 
1642, after having received the last rites of the 
Church, while Mazarin stood in solemn silence by 
the bedside and saw the only obstacle in the way 
of his own greatness vanish away. 

It was said that Pope Urban VI II., when 
informed of Richelieu's death, exclaimed : 

" If there is a God, he will be rightly punished ; 
but if there is no God, truly Richelieu was a clever 
man. ^ 

The late Minister left all his vast possessions 
to Louis, including his beautiful country place at 
Rueil. 

That feeble-minded King was incapable of con- 
tinuing without some support, and he turned at once 
to Mazarin for counsel. Regret for Richelieu he had 
none — indeed, he experienced the profoundest relief; 

' " Ah ! che se gli e un Dio, ben tosto la pagara ; ma verame te 
se non c'e Dio, ^ giant uomo." — AfSS. des Memoires de Motteville. 



72 THE TWO MINISTERS [chap, vm 

but he was all the same ready to put his neck 
under another yoke. 

The new Cardinal, as able a man as the last, saw 
his opportunity and took it. He did not terrorise 
Louis as his predecessor had done, but he made 
himself absolutely indispensable to him, and day by 
day his position was strengthened till it became 
impregnable. Richelieu's admiration of his talents 
had been so great that it was he who really placed 
him in power, declaring that Mazarin had more 
knowledge and zeal than any other person, and 
that he was the most capable man he had ever 
known. 

Thus these two great Ministers, who ruled in 
succession, and who each remained in office for 
eighteen years, have gone down to posterity with 
their names linked together and their praises sung 
by at least one gifted poet.^ 

' " Tous deux sont revetus de la pourpre romaine, 
Tous deux sont entoures de gardes et de soldats, 
II les prends pour des Rois. 
Richelieu, Mazarin, Ministres immortals." 

Voltaire, La Henriade. 



CHAPTER IX 

DEATH OF LOUIS XIII. AND RISE OF MAZARIN 

ACCORDING to La Rochefoucauld, it was 
during the short interval between the death 
of Richelieu and that of Louis XIII. that Mazarin 
began " to open avenues into the heart of the 
Queen." ^ 

At first Anne conceived a great aversion to 
him, looking upon him as a creature of Richelieu ; 
yet all the same his personal fascinations grew 
upon her ; seeing that he sought to do her no 
evil, she by degrees gave him her full confidence. 
As he perceived that the King's health was rapidly 
failing, and that a long minority was in prospect, 
he knew it rested with himself to become the soul 
and centre of the Council, and he did not miss 
his opportunities. 

INIazarin was still a young man, only forty years 
of age ; he did not neglect his personal advantages, 
nor fail to put forth those refinements of manner 
which are paramount with most women. His 
cleverness then and afterwards consisted in seizing 
the unique moment. There was no plank more 
solid on which to launch himself than the heart of 

• Manoires de la Rochefoucauld. 

73 lO 



74 DEATH OF LOUIS XIII. [chap, ix 

the romantic and tender-hearted Queen ; he put him- 
self at Anne's feet as a means of reaching her heart. ^ 

Therefore the Cardinal persuaded the King, or 
rather gently insinuated, that it would be wise to make 
the Queen Regent, because it would greatly limit the 
power of the Regency were it held by a woman. 

When Louis realised that he was dying the 
court was at St. Germain. He felt that he 
had but a few hours to live, and, turning to M. 
de Chavigny, said, " Let us think of business," 
and then gave forth the reasons that had 
been already put into his mind. After Chavigny 
had written out the King's wishes, the Queen 
entered the sick room, and the dying Monarch 
made her read the paper and solemnly promise 
to observe his requests. He had intended to 
put into his declaration an order to the effect 
that the Chancellor Chateauneuf and Madame de 
Chevreuse should for ever be exiled from court, 
for, said he, rising with a last effort, and speaking 
in a clear voice, " Those two are the devil." ^ 

But he lingered on for six weeks after that time, 
daily dying, but never able to depart. Many of 
those around him were wearying for the end, so 
little affection had he inspired, and so rife were 
the intrigues about him. To the last he was con- 
scious, and died tranquilly May 14, 1643, in the 
forty-third year of his age. 

Anne, kneeling by the bedside, burst into tears 

^ Opinion of Victor Cousin. 

^ MSS. oi Memoires de Motteville. 



1643] LOUIS XIV. ENTERS PARIS 75 

when they told her he had passed away, and she 
was gently led from the sickroom by her physician 
to her own apartment. She mourned him sincerely, 
and said afterwards that his death had caused her 
acute grief ; her feelings towards him had ever 
been tender, and hers was not a nature to bear 
ill-will. Rousing herself from her natural sorrow, she 
repaired to the royal nurseries, where with streaming 
tears she saluted her Sovereign in the person of 
the tiny Dauphin, whom she clasped in her arms. 

On the following morning Louis XIV. and his 
mother, accompanied by the Due d'Orleans and 
the Prince de Conde, left St. Germain for Paris. 
The lying-in-state of the deceased King was held at 
the former place, and the Due de Vendome remained 
in charge at the Palace. The Due d'Orleans and 
the Prince de Conde looked askance at each other for 
a time, and a rumour was current that Monsieur 
the late King's brother had intended to seize the 
person of Louis XIV., and thus quench for ever 
the authority of Anne ; but she had taken her 
precautions against the evil machinations of the 
princes of the blood, and had doubled her guards. 
On their arrival in Paris, the roads were lined with 
thousands of people, and salutes were fired with 
all due honour. Anne was to be the saviour of 
her people and the happiness of France ; in her 
arms was the young King, and her courage and 
gentleness through all her many persecutions had 
won the respect and love of all. 

The new Minister, for such had Louis XII L 



'je ANNE INTERVIEWS MAZARIN [chap, ix 

promoted Mazarin to be, thought fit, however, to 
ask permission to retire to Italy. He was not yet 
sure of Anne. In his private letters of that date 
his want of confidence in her was very marked.^ 
He therefore felt this was the wisest course open 
to him at the moment, and he demanded a private 
audience with the Queen. 

Anne, possibly from personal reasons, tertainly 
with the knowledge that the services of his 
Eminence would be invaluable to her, willingly 
granted his request, saying as she did so to the 
Comte de Brienne : 

"The Cardinal seems to consider himself offended ; 
what can I do ? He publishes abroad that he is 
asking permission to retire." 

" Madame," replied the Comte, "if you ofifer him 
what he expects to have, he will be satisfied. If, 
on the other hand, he refuses you, it will be a proof 
that he will not live under any obligations towards 
you. In that case, you will lose nothing if he 
retires." ^ 

Perhaps Anne thought the loss to her would 
mean a great deal, and she awaited with beating 
heart the entrance of the Cardinal. 

As he bowed low before her, she tremblingly 
made her proposition, which was that he should 
remain as her adviser and Minister. The dark eyes 
shot forth their response as with his lips he thanked 
her for the great honour she was doing him, which 

' Victor Cousin. 

* CqIU Petjtot^ Memoires de Brienne, 




After Ph. Champi^iie. 

ANNE OF AUSTRIA AS A WIDOW. 



1643] ANNE QUEEN-REGENT ^^ 

would, if possible, attach him still more deeply to 
her service ; learning that she was acting on the 
advice of the Comte de Brienne, he expressed great 
pleasure. 

After the funeral obsequies were over Anne, in 
her widow's robe, leading her son by the hand, 
appeared in state at the assembly, and declared that 
she appointed Cardinal Mazarin as chief member 
of the Council and Minister to the King. 

Never did a regency begin more happily. The 
Due d'Orleans could not, and therefore did not, 
contest her authority. The regencies under 
Catherine and Marie de' Medici had hitherto given 
satisfaction, but Anne of Austria was far more 
illustrious by birth than either of them ; moreover, 
she had been appointed to her post by her late 
husband, and, holding as she did the affections of 
her people, she began her new reign without fear.^ 

Never had a court been so joyous, nor so full 
of anticipations of success and happiness. All those 
who had suffered under Richelieu's tyranny thought 
that they had but to ask to be rewarded for their 
sufferings, for, as they expressed it, " the Queen 
was so good." " 

" On donnait tout, on ne refusait rien," said De 
Retz. Anne showered benefits, not always acting 
with the judgment which those in authority are bound 
to observe. She was yet ignorant of the price she 



' M. A. Bazin, France under Mazarin. 

' " The whole French language was comprised in five words, * The 
Queen is so good.' " — De Ret? M^moires, 



-jZ THE VEND6ME cabal [chap, ix 

might have to pay for these liberalities, and when 
every one pressed round her, boldly asking for 
advancement, she had not the heart to refuse. 

Anne was both inexperienced and incapable of 
serious work. She had spent a most idle existence, 
and, as she was naturally lazy, she found the 
cares of government a terrible burden. It was 
not long before she discovered that to rule over a 
country such as France was no child's play, and 
that alone and unaided it was practically impossible. 

She had given all her confidence to the Bishop 
of Beauvais, her Grand Almoner, and had applied 
at Rome for a Cardinal's hat for him. He was a 
good man, but quite incapable of bearing the 
burden of State affairs. At first there was great 
friction between him and Mazarin, the Bishop 
having every intention to become Minister,^ but 
he soon saw that the power of his colleague 
increased daily, and the Queen found it was 
necessary to withdraw her Almoner, much to his 
indignation, from her immediate circle. Mazarin 
remained humble and unobtrusive, drawing as 
little attention as possible to himself; under a 
quiet manner he hid his ambitions and his designs, 
and almost imperceptibly gathered together the 
reins of government. The cabal headed by the 
Due d'Orleans and Messieurs de Vendome looked 
with contempt, but no fear, at what they con- 
sidered his presumption. But Anne, being a 
woman, understood him all the more easily from 

^ Michaud, Biblio, Universelle. 



1643-4] "LE PETIT CONSEIL" 79 

the first. Mazarin's mind was fertile in resource, 
and he was an indefatigable worker ; he may 
not have had quite the genius of Richelieu, but 
he was the equal of his late master in diplomacy 
and administration. 

He began from that time to come every evening 
to see the Queen, and hold a conference with her, 
though not in private. The doors were open 
where she sat to all comers, but the courtiers 
held aloof not to disturb the tHe-a-tete, which 
began to be called " Le Petit Conseil."^ Mazarin 
used to enlighten her about foreign affairs, of 
which she was ignorant, and of which he was a 
past-master, having studied foreign policy during 
his residence in Spain and Italy, as well as in 
France. He owed his Cardinalate to that know- 
ledge, and had not studied under Richelieu to 
no purpose. It was not surprising that the Queen 
followed his counsels, and leaned upon his words. 
What other words were spoken at these evening 
meetings who can say ? Lips and eyes both spoke 
probably, and the susceptible Queen was not long 
able to resist their influence. After the perse- 
cutions she had endured, and the indignities that 
had been heaped on her, it was natural that she 
should receive with delight the romantic homage 
paid to her, from the first hour of their meeting, 
by this fascinating foreigner. The writers of the 
day who clearly saw the situation admitted it 
from the first ; if Anne had indulged in foolish 

' Memoires de Motteville. 



8o MAZARIN'S POLICY [chap, ix 

flirtations hitherto, which had well-nigh wrecked 
her life, this time she was brought into contact 
with a man powerful enough to dominate her life, 
and strong enough to support her through all her 
difficulties.^ 

One reason that the Cardinal was accepted as 
Minister without open dissension was, that all 
knew that the late King had nominated him, and 
he sought to make himself popular from the be- 
ginning. He put back Chavigny into the Council 
as one of the Ministers, and told the Queen it 
had been an unwise move on her part when she 
turned him out. He also persuaded her that an 
act she contemplated doing, which would have 
ruined the relations of Richelieu, was a great 
injustice, and explained to her that as they would be, 
if left alone, dependent on her bounty, therefore they 
would serve her faithfully, and that for his part 
it was his duty to support all those who belonged 
to the man to whom he owed his greatness. His 
policy was so clever that he soon quenched all 
opposition from the Queen's adherents, and more- 
over he instilled into her heart the notion that 
these were acts of Christian virtue and clemency 
that would elevate her in the eyes of the world. 

Notwithstanding her just aversion to Richelieu's 
memory, she rendered justice to his merits. One 
day when visiting his country palace at Rueil, 

^ " Mazarin avait sur Anne cet empire qu'un homme doit avoir sur 
una femme nee avec assez de faiblesse pour etre dominee, et avec 
assez de fermete pour persister dans son choix." — Voltaire. 



1643-4] MARQUISE DE SENACE 8i 

which he had left to the late King, she gazed at a 
fine portrait of him in the hall, and turning to the 
courtiers who surrounded her she observed : " Had 
this man continued to live his greatness would 
have gone on increasing." ^ 

She upheld Mazarin on every occasion, and did 
not pay much heed to the advice of De Beauvais, 
showing by all her actions that she had given her 
entire confidence to the Cardinal. 

France would have been spared many troubles, 
and the court would have been less full of 
intrigue, had those about her been able to share 
her belief in his virtues, and accept and admire 
his moderation and talents. But they preferred 
ambition to peace, and when they found the Queen 
had surrendered her authority to the Cardinal, a 
feeling of revolt towards him soon set in. 

Among those recalled from exile by Anne was 
the Marquise de Senace," whom she desired to 
appoint as gouvernante to the King. As soon as 
it was known that this lady was once more in 
royal favour, crowds gathered daily at her house 
to pay their court to her. She received them in 
her bed, having been indisposed, and she after- 
wards said that she had been sitting up so long 
resting on her elbows occupied in bowing to all 
those who walked through her room to pay their 
respects, that the skin was absolutely excoriated ! 

' Mhnoires de Brienne. 

* Marie Catherine de la Rochefoucauld, widow in 1622 of Henri de 
Beaufremont, Marquis de Senace. 

II 



82 DUCHESSE DE CHEVREUSE [chap, ix 

The same cgurt was paid to the Duchesse de 
Chevreuse, known to have suffered many things 
from the love she bore her Queen. She arrived 
from Brussels, where she had been well received, 
on account of the hatred that was felt in all foreign 
countries for her late enemy Richelieu. She had 
gone from Spain to Flanders, and she thought that 
the attachment which the King of Spain had felt 
for her would bring her more favour in the eyes 
of Anne ; but she found the latter uninterested 
in the details of this flirtation, perhaps also secretly 
annoyed. Nothing lasts here below, and the fair 
Chevreuse found that the Queen was not quite 
the same as when they had parted. Anne 
no longer found the same charm in her former 
companion ; she considered herself too devout 
and serious for her frivolous lady, and thought, 
moreover, that she was too much given to love 
affairs ill suited to her forty-five years. 

The Duchess, on her side, found the Queen 
wrapped up in her babies ; but more than all, she was 
Regent of France. The lonely, neglected young 
woman. Queen only in name, was now the most 
powerful lady in the land. Madame de Chevreuse 
shrugged her shoulders, and turned her attentions 
to another quarter. She had plenty of friends and 
admirers, and she had no fears that she would not 
succeed in some of her many intrigues. Her 
vivacity never flagged — indeed, it was her chief 
charm, for she was not, strictly speaking, beautiful, 
and absolutely lacking in wisdom ; but her brightness 



1643-4] "LA BELLE" 83 

and wit seemed to take the place of all other 
feminine attractions. She was the strangest mixtjure 
of want of judgment and brilliancy. It was De 
Retz who said of her, "Her devotion to love was 
her everlasting passion ; she only changed the object 
of it." She amused and interested him, and he 
always called her " La Belle." ^ 

Madame de Motteville^ who upheld every action 
of the Queen, said that her devotion to her son the 
King filled her every thought ; may it not rather 
have been that into Anne's heart was creeping an 
overwhelming passion, which left no room for 
friendship or any other sentiment ? Besides, though 
the Cardinal tolerated the presence of Madame de 
Chevreuse, he had no mind to be supplanted by 
her, and took care to point out daily all her faults 
and little weaknesses to the Queen. 

1 " I found ' La Belle,' who had only just returned from Brussels, 
in tears at her toilette, as the Queen had ordered her to leave in 
twenty-four hours." — De Retz Mhnoires, 



CHAPTER X 

MAZARIN AS MINISTER 

ABOUT that time an adventure occurred which 
had the effect of placing the Cardinal more 
firmly than ever in his elevated position. 

Women have often been the first causes in some 
of the greatest overthrows of States, and wars that 
threaten kingdoms and empires often do not pro- 
duce such lasting effects as incidents brought about 
by the charms or malice of the daughters of Eve. 

The Duchesse de Montbazon was considered the 
greatest beauty of the day. She was mother-in-law 
to the Duchesse de Chevreuse, and was, like her, in 
the cabal of the Vendomes, not so much on account 
of affection for her daughter-in-law, but because the 
Due de Beaufort, a prominent member of it, was 
her lover. The two ladies were much of the same 
age, and great friends ; Madame de Chevreuse, 
being: furious because the Oueen had ordered her 
away from court to her Chateau de Montrouge, 
was soon surrounded there by the enemies pf 
Mazarin, and all those who had begun to complain 
of what they called the ingratitude of the Queen. 
Madame de Longueville, however, at that time 
belonged to the Queen's faction. She had been a 

84 



1643-4] THE LOVE-LETTER 85 

Princesse de Bourbon, one of the royal family, and 
had been forced by her father to marry M. de 
Longueville, who was enormously rich. But she 
never forgot the royal blood in her veins, and, 
though he was given rank directly after the princes, 
she would not consider him her equal. He was 
also very much older than herself; and as he was 
an admirer of Madame de Montbazon, there was 
no love lost between these ladies. 

One day when the Duchess was entertaining guests 
in her own house, one of her ladies picked up a letter 
lying on the floor and carried it to her mistress ; it 
was in a woman's handwriting, full of tender words 
to a beloved object. It was at once turned into ridi- 
cule, and made a subject of mirth in the little circle. 
From laughter to curiosity, from curiosity to suspicion, 
they soon passed on to conjecture, till at last they 
decided it had fallen from the pocket of De Coligny, 
brother of the Due de Chatillon, who was known 
to entertain a passion for Madame de Longueville, 

This princess had a great reputation for virtue, 
but none the less was by no means averse to admira- 
tion.^ Of course the letter was in a feigned hand, 
and no one really believed in the statement made 
half in fun ; all the same it reached the ears of 
Madame de Longueville, who resented the imputa- 
tion greatly. 

Though she had no special love for her husband, 

' La Rochefoucauld gives testimony to her virtue, " Tous ceux qui 
essay^rent de plaire a la soeur de Conde, le tent^rent inutilement." — 
Memoir es^ p. 393. 



86 QUARREL OF THE LADIES [chap, x 

she was of course indignant at his attentions to the 
fair Duchess, and she also posed as being most 
correct in her conduct. She was also aware that 
the Duchesse de Montbazon had always intended 
to marry De Longueville when her old husband died, 
and had therefore been furious at his alliance with a 
royal princess. 

Madame de Bourbon, mother of Madame de 
Longueville, now took up the quarrel, and went to 
the Queen to complain of the outrage. The whole 
court was in an uproar. The Queen took the part 
of the Princesse de Bourbon, and declared that it 
was her duty to see that the honour of Madame de 
Longueville should be vindicated ; she gave her a 
personal interview, and promised her protection. 

The Due de Beaufort, who had always upheld 
Madame de Montbazon, now began to fail somewhat 
in his allegiance towards her. He had asked for the 
charge of the Admiralty, and when this was refused 
him he was extremely indignant, and laid the blame 
on Mazarin, for he declared the Queen had pro- 
mised this appointment to him. But the Cardinal 
turned the enmity of the opposite party to his own 
advantage, for he had more wit than they, and knew 
how to make small incidents serve great ends. 

He entered into the quarrel of the ladies, and 
when Anne ordered Madame de Montbazon to go 
and make a public apology to the Princess, it was 
Mazarin who wrote down for her what words she 
should say, and he appeared to be doing his best 
to satisfy both parties. The Queen and Madame 



1643-4] "LE JARDIN DE RENARD" 87 

de Longueville were in a state of extreme agitation, 
and made of this trifling affair a crime of lese- 
majestd. The Duchesse de Chevreuse, being for 
many reasons on the side of her mother-in-law, 
helped the Cardinal to compose the harangue. 
They argued over every word. The Cardinal went 
from one to the other to adjust their differences, as 
if the peace of France depended on it. It was an 
absolute farce. 

The following day the Duchesse de Montbazon 
was ordered to present herself at Madame de 
Longueville's to assure her there was no truth in 
the story of the letter, which had been invented by 
mischievous scandalmongers.^ 

Lest she should forget what she had to say, it 
was written on a piece of paper tied to her fan. 
She walked in with an extremely haughty air, and 
repeated her apology with a look that plainly said, 
" I attach no importance to what I am saying ! " 

The Princess, however, had to accept it, only 
she begged the Queen so to arrange that she should 
never find herself in the same room as the Duchesse 
de Montbazon. This Anne promised. 

A short time afterwards the Duchesse de 
Chevreuse gave a grand collation in a garden 
adjoining that of the Tuileries. It was called " Le 
jardin de Renard," as this portion of the garden 
had been granted to a man named Renard, who had 

' The letter was really written by the beautiful Madame de 
Fouguerelles to the elegant Marquis de Maulevrier. — M^moires de la 
Rochefoucauld, 



88 INDIGNATION OF ANNE [chap, x 

been a lackey of the Bishop of Beauvais when he 
was Almoner to the Queen. This privilege had 
been a piece of royal favour, and it was one of the 
favourite places of amusement in Paris.^ . 

On this occasion there had been some races, and 
the fete in question was held after the return of the 
gay world to Paris, and the Queen graciously 
promised to be present ; she took Madame de 
. Longueville with her, assuring her that she would 
not meet her enemy, as Madame de Montbazon 
was indisposed and keeping her bed. But as soon 
as they reached the garden, who should they see 
but the Duchess doing the honours in her capacity 
of mother-in-law. 

" I implore you," cried the Princess, " to allow 
me to retire." 

" No," answered the Queen, " I cannot allow 
you to do that, I will not subject you to this 
insult, but I know how to remedy the matter, 
though without destroying the harmony of the 
entertainment," and she at once sent word to 
Madame de Montbazon to feign sudden illness 
and retire. 

This lady was so wanting in tact she actually 
refused to obey the command. The Queen, greatly 
offended at such conduct, firmly declined to 
take part in the collation after such want of 
respect being shown to her, and with the Princess 
returned to the Louvre in a state of great irritation. 
Next day the Duchess received the order to retire 

' Memoires de Gicy Joli. 



1643-4] "LES IMPORTANS" 89 

to one of her country houses, which she was 
perforce obh'ged to do.^ Her disgrace was followed 
by that of the Due de Beaufort, and the rest of 
their party, who had received the name of '' Les 
Importans,'' on account of their arrogance, and the 
airs they gave themselves, which were intended 
as a contrast to the humility affected by the 
Cardinal.^ Whether rightly or not, the Duke was 
accused of having laid a plot for the assassination 
of Mazarin in revenge for the slight offered to 
himself, but this may have been an exaggera- 
tion. 

Those who adhered to the families now in 
disgrace declared that the Queen had made 
too much of a trifle ; but the Cardinal was not 
sorry to profit by the Queen's anger to exile 
from court those interested in the cabal of the 
Vendomes. As to Madame de Chevreuse, dis- 
gusted at seeing her friends disgraced and ill- 
treated, she complained to Anne of the want of 
consideration she had displayed. 

" I beg you not to interfere in matters that do 
not concern you," was the cold reply, "and leave 
me to govern my State and choose as Minister 
whom I please. If you will live pleasantly in 
France, and not mix yourself up in intrigues, you 
are welcome to stay, and on that condition alone 
will I extend my friendship to you." 

' The order was sent in the King's name. — Archives des afflxires 
dtrangires, t. xv., p. ii. 
* Memoires de Brieniie. 

12 



90 FLIGHT TO ST. MALO [chap, x 

But the Duchess did not receive these remon- 
strances with the subniission expected by Anne. 
She saw that the Queen's good graces towards 
her diminished daily, and it was no surprise to 
her when she, too, was requested to retire to her 
house at Tours. She had no intention, however, 
of being buried in the country, though she did 
not dare openly to disobey. 

When she saw that Maz^rin was quite as 
antagonistic to her as Richelieu had formerly been, 
she once more determined on flight, this time 
accompanied by her daughter. They disguised 
themselves as peasants, whether from necessity or 
from her love of excitement and adventure, and 
made their way to St. Malo. Here she threw 
herself on the mercy of the Marquis de Coetqueen, 
a nobleman of Brittany, who, as so many had 
already done, fell under the influence of her charms, 
and laid his fortune and his services at her feet. 
She had, however, the honesty to do by him as 
she had done by La Rochefoucauld, and left all 
her jewels in his hands, in case of her death, to 
repay him for his present assistance. A small 
vessel was secured, and they left that dangerous 
and rocky coast at the peril of their lives, hoping 
to reach England. But adverse winds drove them 
to Guernsey. The sufferings of the high-born 
nobles and ladies who crossed the stormy and 
uncertain channel, taking two or three days to do 
so, must have been great indeed. From there 
they eventually took ship to Flanders, and the 



1643-4] THE DUEL 91 

Duchess once more took up her abode among 
her friends in Brussels.^ 

The Cardinal must have looked upon these 
feminine quarrels — veritable tempests in a teacup — 
with amusement. But he managed to convey to 
every one with whom he came in contact that his 
own desire was to serve them and their interests. 
His insinuating manner enchanted men and women 
alike, save those who resented his authority and 
who felt the steel clasp under the velvet glove. 

Even in his days of poverty at Rome he had 
been considered one of the most agreeable of men, 
so it need not cause surprise that he was able to 
please the Queen of France, and later on her two 
sons, by his deference, his charm of manner, and 
above all his tact. That he should have been 
hated as well is but the ordinary fate of a favourite. 

But the foolish affair related above was not with- 
out serious consequences. A duel took place in the 
Place Royale between the Due de Guise, one of 
the supporters of Madame de Montbazon, and the 
Comte de Coligny, in consequence of the letter 
attributed to Madame de Longueville. The victim 
of that Princess did not come off well in the 
combat, the Due de Guise giving him a sword- 
thrust which caused his death shortly afterwards. 
It is said that Madame de Longueville watched the 
duel, hidden behind the window curtains of the 

' Extrait de rinformation faite par le Prhident Vignier de la 
sortie de Madame de Cltevreuse hors de France. — Biblio. Nationale, 
Coll. Du Puy^ No. 499. 



92 COURT MOVES TO PALAIS ROYAL [chap, x 

old Duchesse de Rohan's house. If so, she must 
have suffered considei^bly, and her pride must 
have been deeply injured by the rhymes which 
were composed on the occasion, and sung and 
repeated in every direction.^ 

After this plot the Cardinal spoke very seriously 
to the Queen. In his own words he begged her " to 
throw off the mask and make a determined effort in 
her own defence, and trample these slanders under 
foot ; while as to himself, he would fight with his 
back to the wall." ^ He reminded her of the insolence 
of Madame de Montbazon at the garden party, pind 
told her it lay with herself to assert her authority. 

At that time the Cardinal lived at the Louvre, 
the Queen having in full Council announced that 
owing to his bad health she wished to assign him 
an apartment in the palace, so as to converse more 
easily with him on matters of State.^ 

But now she made up her mind to leave the 
Louvre, having never really liked it as a place of 
residence, and took up her abode with her court at 
the Palais Cardinal, better known by its future 
name of Palais Royal. Here she fell ill of the 

^ " Essuyez vos beaux yeux, 
Madame de Longueville, 
Coligny se porte mieux 
S'il a demande la vie. 
Ne le blamez nuUement, 
Car c'est pour etre votre amant 
Qu'il veut vivre eternellement." 

Mdmoires de Motteville. 
^ Carnats de Mazarin, p. 96. 

^ Lettre de Gaudin ^ Servien, November 19, 1643, Journal des 
Savants de 1856. 



1643-4] MAZARIN'S POWER 93 

jaundice ; her physicians said it was owing to her 
sadness and sorrow. 

The sorrows were mostly caused by the inability 
she felt to carry on the government, and to please 
every one. But as the malady subsided, she 
determined no longer to dwell on such things, but 
to put all her affairs upon the able shoulders of her 
Minister. 

Armed with full power, he soon cleared away 
from the court people inimical to his orders. The 
Marqyise de Senace was the only person he had 
not appointed, and could not get rid of, on account 
of her position about the little King. 

She was a tiresome woman, full of pretensions, 
and wishing to have everything her own way. She 
wanted to be made a duchess, and said that her 
children had the right to be princes, as they bore 
the name of Foix. However, like all unreasonable 
people, she was very unequal in her conduct — what 
the Spaniards called "altos y baxos" — so it did not 
trouble Anne much, and the Cardinal was equally 
indifferent to her acts of submission to his authority 
or her complaints at his orders. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE queen's life AS REGENT 

THE mourning being now over, the life at 
court resumed its usual course, and was 
carried on in accordance with the Queen's wishes. 
Anne was simple in her habits, but was very dainty 
in some of her tastes. It was impossible to find 
linen fine enough for her underclothing ; she could 
not bear coming in contact with anything the least 
coarse. Once, when she was complaining of this, 
Mazarin said jokingly, " Madame, if you were ever 
to be eternally damned, your hell would consist in 
sleeping in coarse Dutch linen." ^ 

An account of her daily life may be of interest, 
and is curious also as a picture of the great world 
at that time. 

The Queen spent much time at her devotions. 
On holy days she was roused at nine o'clock, 
otherwise she always slept till ten or eleven. As 
soon as she was awake the principal officers and 
gentlemen came in to pay their court to her — a 
most unpleasing habit, and one which can hardly be 
understood in these days. They were followed by 
ladies, who came to discuss certain charitable institu- 

' On her deathbed Anne lamented over the undue care she had 
bestowed on her bodily comfort. — Memoires de Motteville, vol. 4. 

94 



1643-4] ANNE'S DAILY LIFE 95 

tions in Paris, in which the Queen took much interest, 
for she was extremely liberal towards the poor and 
suffering. During these audiences, which were 
attended by men as well as women, she entered into 
many affairs, and conducted a good deal of business. 

His Majesty the King, and petit Monsieur, were 
then brought in to play in her room, where they 
stayed till their midday meal was served, for they 
were not old enough to sit at table with her. After 
she had seen as many people as she desired, she 
would rise, and putting on a dressing-gown, retire 
to pray in her oratory ; she then proceeded to 
breakfast with great appetite — the said appetite 
being rather astonishing. After a cup of bouillon 
and some cutlets, she was served with sausages and 
a sort of dish of boiled bread. 

The little King was then allowed to hand her 
her chemise, which he kissed tenderly before 
presenting it, and this custom was continued by 
him for many years. When her women had put 
on her petticoats, she was wrapped in a long black 
mantle or robe called a hongreline, and in this 
costume repaired to the chapel to hear mass. She 
then returned to her room and completed her 
toilette. As has been mentioned before, she always 
did her hair herself, handling the beautiful chestnut 
locks with the greatest skill. Her white taper 
fingers, as they moved deftly over their work, were 
the admiration of those who looked on. 

At that period of her early widowhood she wore 
no gold and silver embroideries, and but few jewels. 



96 "LE GRAND CABINET" [chap, xi 

She also gave up rouge, which greatly enhanced 
the clearness of her skin. She could not have been 
very strong in health, for she often had to spend a 
day in bed to rest herself. 

She rarely dined in state, but mostly alone with 
her ladies, and the little boys sat with her, though 
they were not allowed to partake of her dishes. 
After dinner she again retired to her oratory, and 
spent some time in prayer. In the afternoon she 
visited some of the charitable institutions already 
spoken of, and then returned to the palace to 
receive all the princesses and ladies of quality. 

When this reception was over she retired to her 
own private room, where the Cardinal joined her, 
and he often stayed an hour or more. A large. 
crowd of nobles and courtiers were waiting in what 
was called the Grand Cabinet^ and it was there that 
all the gallantries and intrigues arose between the 
ladies and gentlemen. 

When that, to her, most precious hour of the day 
was over, she would walk, followed by the Cardinal, 
through their ranks, exchanging salutations and 
bidding them good-night. 

Very few men had the privilege of the entree to 
the Queen when in her private room. The Chevalier 
de Jars, Beringhen, the Marquis de Chandenier, 
Captain of the Queen's Guard, and his nephew and 
lieutenant, De Comminges, were of that number. 
Others tried often to make their way in, but Anne 

^ The exact meaning of the word " cabinet," so much used in old 
memoirs, is what would correspond with the modern word " library." 



1643] THE QUEEN'S SUPPER 97 

would scold if it happened often, and if she saw 
signs of their trying to take root there. The 
Marechaux de Grammont, Crequy, and Mortemart 
were also privileged favourites. 

As to the ladies, those generally in waiting were 
Mademoiselle de Beaumont, Madame de Bregy, 
and Madame de Motteville. The Duchesse de 
Chevreuse was absent, and Madame de Haute- 
ville's place had also never been filled up, and 
though the Marquise de Senace was a lady-in- 
waiting, her post was beside his Majesty. 

When Anne had bidden the Cardinal good-night 
she again repaired to her oratory to pray. Supper 
was served at eleven, and then when she had 
finished the Queen retired, leaving her ladies to 
conclude their evening meal. An extraordinary 
feature of these otherwise luxurious times, we are 
told, is that the meal was not properly served for 
them. The ladies ate what was left, finished the 
Queen's bread, used her serviette, and drank up 
her wine, but the repast was otherwise a cheerful 
one, being free of all ceremony, and they laughed 
and talked freely among themselves. 

The Queen had by this time finished her evening 
prayers, and her women trooped in, and sat for 
an hour or more amusing her with all the scandal 
they had collected during the day. The conver- 
sation was often very free as well as intimate and 
lively. Anne undressed in a leisurely manner, and 
often got into bed, where at last she became so 
sleepy — it being generally one in the morning — that 

13 



98 ANNE'S RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES [chap, xi 

she would dismiss the whole party, selecting one lady 
whose duty it was to sleep at the foot of her couch/ 

Anne was extremely regular in her habits, and 
led this same life in Paris, Fontainebleau, and St. 
Germain. She held her Councils on Monday and 
Thursday, and was almost overwhelmed by the 
crowds wht) attended them. When in Paris she 
went to the mass at Notre Dame every Saturday. 
She received the Holy Sacrament every Sunday 
and feast-day, and fasted with great severity 
during Lent. On the eve of great festivals she 
always, when she could, went to sleep at Val-de- 
Grace, where she resolved to build a far finer 
convent, worthy of the Queen^Mother of Louis XIV. 
She would stay there two or three days at a 
time, retired from the world, Hving alone among 
the nuns, with only one bed-chamber woman in 
attendance. But though, as has been shown, 
Anne gave up a great deal of time to her devo- 
tions, she entered with much zest into more 
mundane occupations. She used to adore dancing, 
but that taste had departed as years grew upon 
her, and the dull life she had led for so long had 
quenched much of her former gaiety of disposition. 
But she still loved the theatre, though as long as 
she was in mourning she would only sit in the 
back of the box. 

In fact, her life was a tedious one, and the 
Cardinal must often have found her a dull com- 
panion. She did not care for books, and had 

' Mdmoires de Motteville. 



1644] SUMMER AT RUEIL 99 

read very little ; but her gentleness and goodness 
made up in a great measure for her want of wit 
and talent. 

During the summer of 1644 Anne removed the 
court to Rueil to escape the great heat of the 
capital. The nearness to Paris of this beautiful 
chateau, Richelieu's legacy to his King, made it 
very convenient. The gardens were lovely, and 
the children throve in the fresh air. In spite of 
its souvenirs Anne loved the place. She used to 
wander about in liberty free from the trammels 
of State, and took pleasure in the most innocent 
occupations. The Cardinal had sent to Italy for 
a certain Signora Lenore, a virhiosa whose voice 
was very fine. 

The Queen would spend her evenings on the 
terrace in the starlight, listening to her singing. 
Doubtless Mazarin came often from Paris, and 
joined her there ; the excuse being to hear his 
protegee sing, in reality to spend the summer 
evenings with the woman he loved. 

But did he love her? 

All through their history this question is forced 
upon us. As a woman, had Anne any attractions 
for him ? At any rate he was in love with the Queen 
^in love with power and rank and influence, with 
the flattering of the crowd, and the cringing of the 
suitors. And it was Anne, and Anne alone, who 
brought him all these things. She was still hand- 
some, still attractive, in spite of her forty-odd years, 
and above all she adored him. 

Lore. 



100 MAZARIN'S ILLNESS [chap, xi 

Mazarin could not have been insensible to this, 
and so the summer days fled by in peaceful rest 
and dalliance ; for these short weeks Anne was 
the woman, not the Queen, and tasted some of 
the joys of life. 

Towards the autumn the court moved to Fon- 
tainebleau, which was always a favourite place of 
residence with Anne, who there sought such amuse- 
ments as were compatible with her second year of 
mourning. But the pleasure of her stay was 
greatly spoilt by the news being brought to her 
one morning that the Cardinal was ill. He was 
staying in the palace at the time. 

The Queen flew to his bedside in an agony of 
fear ; all the affairs of State were at once laid aside. 
His malady was a fever, which was so violent 
that the courtiers felt sure he would never 
recover. Delighted at the idea of any change, 
they openly mentioned Chateauneuf as his successor. 
Some even had the audacity to speak on the 
subject to Anne. The Comte de Brienne tried 
to soften it for her by saying that he did not think 
Mazarin was so ill as they tried to make out, but 
all the same she would do wisely in looking out for 
a safe man in case the Cardinal died.^ But she 
could only wring her hands and wonder what would 
become of France and herself. 

If the attachment between the Queen and the 
Cardinal had been only suspected before, there is 
no doubt that there were no longer any illusions on 
* Coll. Petitot, Memoires de Brienne. 




^€//n:^?^^ <Ly^ta^'€i^/'^^ 



^(^J^ 



1644] ANNE'S DEVOTION TO HIM loi 

the subject. Her grief and fear, and then her joy 
at his recovery, left little uncertainty in people's 
minds. Anne was over-anxious that every one 
should love her favourite equally with herself, and 
thereby she injured Mazarin's cause, for her efforts 
only resulted in his being hated. 

The Cardinal understood French imperfectly, and 
many misunderstandings arose in consequence ; he 
use^ to accuse persons of insolence, not being 
clear as to their meaning. Probably he affected this 
ignorance when anxious to separate the Queen 
from those he thought undesirable companions 
for her ; he doubtless understood a great deal 
more than he admitted. He used to assume an 
air of authority and make very sarcastic remarks. 

Once the Cardinal de Retz in the presence of 
the Queen told him that the animosity of the people 
against him was growing. Mazarin listened to 
these insinuations in silence, and then laughed 
scornfully. ** I will tell you an Italian fable," he 
said : " the wolf swore an oath to a flock of sheep 
that he would protect them against his comrades, 
provided one among them would come every 
morning and lick a wound he had received. Your 
warnings are about as useful as the wolfs offers of 
protection, and I can take care of myself" He 
made light of his enemies, because in his pride he 
felt fully capable of holding his ground against them. 



I 



CHAPTER XII 

THE QUEEN "as REGENT 

N the winter of 1644 the Queen of England, 
Henrietta Maria, returned as a fugitive to 
her own country. Such was the state of revolution 
in England that the poor Queen, on the eve of her 
confinement, could hardly find a place to lay her 
head. She, the most admired and richest of queens, 
had been reduced to such straits that she had to 
depend entirely on her midwife, Madame Peronne, 
for the veriest necessaries for the occasion. The 
King had taken her to Oxford, but, a siege being 
imminent, she had fled to Exeter, where her child 
was born ; and only seventeen days after, she had 
once more to resume her travels, and eventually 
made her escape in a fishing-boat, and arrived 
more dead than alive in France. There she was 
received with the greatest joy by the people ; for 
was she not a daughter of France, and aunt to 
their King ? Anne was anxious to succour her with 
every mark of loving care, anxious to make up to 
her for the sorrows she had gone through, and, not 
being wanting in generosity, sent her own physicians 
to attend her, and loaded her with gifts. 

Her kindness took a still more practical form, for 
she secured for her a pension of 30,000 livres a 



1645] RETURN OF HENRIETTA MARIA 103 

month. No one was more struck than Henrietta 
at the changes that had taken place since, as a 
young bride, she had left her country. Then, her 
own mother, Marie de' Medici, had been in full 
authority, and Anne, unloved and childless, and 
of no account, had been tyrannised over by her 
imperious mother-in-law. Now the Queen of 
England returned to find her brother and mother no 
more, while the despised Anne of Austria was 
Queen-Regent, with Mazarin at the helm. 

Henrietta thought to enlist the Cardinal in her 
cause ; but though he greeted her with the profoundest 
respect and sympathy, she soon saw that he had 
no idea of embroiling himself by meddling with the 
affairs of another kingdom. 

During the winter the news came of the death of 
the Queen of Spain, the little "Madame" whose 
betrothal took place at the same time as Anne's. 
Her married life had been no happier than that 
of the Infanta of Spain ; but like Anne, though 
unable to arouse any love in the heart of the King 
her husband, she was adored by his entire nation. 

France was now disturbed by war. In 1645 ^^e 
Due d'Orleans and the Due d'Enghien went with 
their combined forces into Bavaria. Hitherto the 
French troops had done nothing but hold their own, 
but they had gradually become inured to war, and 
were now to acquire fame under worthy commanders. 
The brilliant Conde had already, as Due d'Enghien, 
given proof of his military genius — a genius for 
fighting battles — and with Turenne, the greatest 



104 BATTLE OF NORDLINGEN [chap, xn 

strategist of the day, carried terror wherever he went. 
In the famous battle of Nordlingen,a great victory was 
won, but at the cost of an enormous number of lives. 

A victory is the delight of a sovereign, and the 
Queen's eyes were sparkling with excitement when 
she heard of it. 

" My brave generals," she kept murmuring. 
Those around her, filled with emotion at the news 
of the bloody encounter, knew not how to reply. At 
that moment the Cardinal appeared on the terrace 
where she was sitting, and all fell back before him. 
Anne rose, her face wreathed with smiles, and 
looked with dismay at his solemn countenance. 

" Madame," he said gravely, " so many people 
have lost their lives, it does not befit your Majesty 
to rejoice at this victory." He raised his voice, 
desirous that those about them should be aware of 
his sentiments. The Queen looked abashed at this 
rebuke, and he proceeded to give her some of the 
harrowing details which she in her first excitement 
had overlooked. He read her the list of slain, and 
told her that the Due de Grammont was taken 
prisoner, till at last the poor Queen was quite cast 
down.^ A word of censure from Mazarin was 
always more than she could bear. 

While these wars were occupying the attention 
of the princes of the blood, Anne and her Minister 
were occupied in the less congenial task of trying 
to raise money. The Parlement of Paris thought 
that during the Regency they might pretty well 

* Memoires de Motteville, 



1645] THE "PARLEMENT" 105 

have their own way,^ and when the Queen-Regent 
proposed to be present they replied she had no 
right to attend. This raised her ire, and she quoted 
the examples of the late Marie de' Medici, who 
when Regent always attended the opening in state. 

As they could not come to any decision, it was 
determined to await the return of the Due d'Orleans, 
and when the uncle of the King finally arrived a 
day was fixed, and everything was to take place 
with great ceremony. The Captain of the Guard 
visited all the prisons in the morning, as was the 
custom, and then appeared with the keys of the palace. 

Anne rose early, and made an elaborate toilet. 
Her robes were still black, and her long black 
veil enhanced her stately beauty. She wore 
magnificent pear-shaped pearls, and huge diamond 
pendants, and a diamond cross of great value was 
suspended on her bosom. Many admiring glances 
were cast upon her. The roads were lined by 
companies of the guards and the Swiss troops, and 
they formed a wall on each side of the path that 
the King and the Queen were to take. 

' In primitive times of the French monarchy the Parlement was 
simply the council of the Sovereign, in no way resembling our Parlia- 
ment. In the time of Louis XIV. it was composed of 120 councillors, 
and comprised no less than seven chambers. The " Grande Chambre " 
was the highest court of judicature in the realm ; there were besides 
provincial parlements. As the 1 Kings of France advanced towards 
despotism, the Parlement of Paris assumed more and more a political 
character. Under the stern rule of Richelieu, it was reduced to 
submissive silence ; but during the regency of Anne of Austria, the 
troubles broke out afresh. The President de Mesmes declared that 
" the Parlement held an authority superior even to that of the States- 
General, since by the right of verification they were judges of all 
that was there determined," 



io6 "LIT DE JUSTICE" [chap, xii 

They walked together, she holding him by the 
hand ; he was a pretty little boy with golden curls, 
and he smiled at those about him. Four of the 
Presidents came to meet their Majesties at the 
door of the Sainte Chapelle, and they went in to 
assist at the Mass. When they reached the great 
hall of justice they proceeded to the part appointed 
for them, and the King was lifted by his equerry 
on to the divan, called in the original '' Le lit de 
justice!'^ His mother placed herself at his right 
hand, and the Due d'Orleans stood behind him. 
On one side were the dukes and peers and marshals 
of France, on the other were the principal ecclesi- 
astics, headed by Mazarin. At the feet of the 
King the Due de Joyeuse, his Grand Chamberlain, 
reclined. The Marquise de Senace stood on the 
left hand of the King, nearest to him of all, 
doubtless to keep him in order, and to ensure his 
doing what was necessary. 

When all were in their places the little King 
bowed, and looking at his mother, to make sure 
of her approval, said in a clear voice : 

" Gentlemen, I have come here to speak to you 
of my affairs. My Chancellor will make known to 
you my royal will." 

His clear childish treble, ringing through the 

' The " lit de justice " was the ceremony by which the Kings of 
France compelled the registration of their edicts by the Parleinent. 
In curia Regis might stand for it, but the thing never existed in 
England. It best corresponds to a pontifical pronouncement 
ex cathedra. The actual /// de justice was a royal seat or divan 
under a dais. 



1645] ANNE CONSULTS MAZARIN 107 

hall, filled his audience with delight, and the 
acclamation that followed was loud and long. 

When the noise had subsided, the Chancellor, in 
an eloquent speech, represented the necessities of 
the State, pointed out the glorious victories of their 
army, and the desire of the Queen for peace. 
M. Mole, the First President, replied, praising in 
high terms the Regent, the wisdom of the Ministers, 
and the valour of the princes of the blood. 

As soon as each principal member had held forth 
to his own satisfaction, and each in praise of the 
other, the King and Queen departed, in the same 
state with which they had arrived. 

Anne, on her return, went straight to bed. It 
must have been the lack of comfortable sofas, 
and the habit of receiving company in the bed- 
room, that caused the ladies of that day to seek 
their couches on every possible occasion. As soon 
as she was comfortably settled, and had dined, 
the Cardinal arrived and spent the evening with 
her. All her women remained within call, but at 
a distance so as not to disturb them.^ 

Anne asked him if he had not been pleased with 
the little King, and they then discussed affairs of 
State together. Later in the evening others joined 
them, and sat in a circle round the royal bed. The 
conversation then degenerated into gossip, and they 
talked of the marriage of Mademoiselle de Rohan, 
and other matters of court interest. 

^ AUvioires de Motteville. 



CHAPTER XIII 

MARRIAGE OF PRINCESSE MARIE 

THE autumn of the year was spent as usual at 
Fontainebleau, where the chief topic which 
occupied the attention of the court was a marriage 
which excited a great deal of talk. 

Ladislas Sigismund, King of Poland, had 
aspired to the hand of Mademoiselle d' Orleans. 
This young lady received his advances with the 
greatest contempt, and laughed at the idea of marry- 
ing such an old suitor — troubled, moreover, with the 
gout, and living in a barbarous country. The old 
Monarch, bent on finding a wife, next turned his 
attentions to Mademoiselle de Guise, but the Queen 
raised objections to this. Undaunted by his ill- 
success, the King now sought out the Princesse 
Marie de Gonzague. She was the second daughter 
of the Due de Mantoise, her elder sister Anne was 
well known as the Princesse Palatine.^ She had 
been long about the French court, and was past her 
first youth, being thirty-three years of age, but she 
was still extremely handsome. 

Monsieur, brother of the late King, when he was 
heir to the throne, had been desperately in love 

' Coll. Petitot, Memoires de Brienne. 
io8 



1645] MARIE DE GONZAGUE 109 

with her, but his mother, Marie de' Medici, had 
interfered, having other designs for him. 

Naturally this fine match coming to nothing 
caused a great deal of annoyance to Marie. 
There was some talk then of her marrying the King 
of Poland, but he chose a German princess instead. 

Foiled in this second matrimonial attempt, she 
remained in Paris, giving herself up to a life of 
gaiety and amusement ; but in the end she lost her 
heart, and gave all her love to the fascinating 
Marquis de Cinq Mars, and his tragic end plunged 
her into despair. This episode also had the effect 
of casting some discredit on her ; it humbled the 
pride of her noble house. 

Her friends saw in this possible marriage with 
the King of Poland, who was now a widower, a 
chance of reinstating her ; and the Queen and the 
Cardinal were applied to, to aid in the matter. 
Mazarin, thinking that this princess, who had 
had nothing but misfortunes, would be eternally 
grateful to him if he raised her to the rank of a 
sovereign, made every effort on her behalf 

The Polish ambassadors were received at Fon- 
tainebleau by the Queen with due ceremony. The 
embassy was unlike any that had been received at the 
court of France. They appear to have been semi- 
savages ; the envoys wore no linen, nor did they sleep 
in sheets, but went to bed naked, wrapped in furs. 
Their heads were shaved, and they were very dirty.^ 

Princesse Marie, who was among the ladies 
' Bazin de Raucon, Histoire de France sous le Ministire de Mazarin. 



no THE ENVOYS FROM POLAND [chap, xm 

seated in the room, rose hastily when they entered, 
and slipped away into the background. She wished 
to hear, but not to be seen ; but some one of the 
party who knew her by sight pointed her out to 
the ambassadors, and they all turned towards her, 
and made her the most profound salutations. 
Laughingly, Marie felt constrained to come forward, 
and the somewhat disgraced lady-in-waiting found 
herself suddenly treated like a queen. 

The next day a grand supper was given in the 
King's name to the envoys, and the contract was 
signed in the royal apartment, though her position 
was unchanged in the household, in spite of her 
coming honours. 

Owing to a relaxation of etiquette at Fontaine- 
bleau, or perhaps to the number of servants being 
insufficient for state ceremonies, a curious incident 
arose, such as would hardly be expected in the 
palace of Louis XIV. Owing to a dispute among 
the retainers, there was no bouillon for the first 
course ; ^ moreover, the lighting of the great stair- 
case was overlooked, and the ambassadors had 
to grope their way to the King's chamber. It 
had been forgotten that they would certainly come 
that way, although it was not used ordinarily. 
Anne, after having scolded those in fault, began to 
laugh, and said that France was never ruled 
properly in great things or in small, and every one 
must have patience. 

King Ladislas sent the Palatin de Posmanie 

* Mhnoires de Motteville^ vol. i. 



i64S] THE MARRIAGE BY PROXY iii 

and the Bishop of Warmie to marry the Princess 
by proxy, and escort her to her new kingdom. 

On the eventful morning the beautiful Marie, in 
a bridal robe, came into the Queen's room to show 
herself She wore the pearls and diamonds which 
were the gift of Anne, and held in her hand a 
crown of priceless jewels. Behind her was carried 
the royal mantle of Poland — white velvet, em- 
broidered with great gold flames. 

"Look, your Majesty," she exclaimed, "they 
tell me I should wear these. What am I to do ? 
My dress was not made for a mantle, it is too short ; 
and should I put on the crown ? " 

Anne was amused at the new Queen's dilemma. 

" You cannot wear the crown yet, dear child, 
it is not yours," she answered, " nor is the mantle 
necessary, for this is not a State ceremony." 

The Cardinal, who was standing by, looked on 
smiling, as Marie held up the crown for him to see, 
and said she owed it to him. She then thanked 
the Queen very prettily for all her many kind- 
nesses. 

Anne was still attired in her black robe and veil, 
with ropes of pearls round her neck. She led the 
bride, in her simple white-and-silver dress, to the 
private chapel at the end of the long gallery. The 
only persons present were the King and "petit 
Monsieur," looking on with childish curiosity, and 
also the Due d'Orleans. 

His presence doubtless aided Marie to feel that, 
after the insult he had put upon her, her triumph 



112 THE QUEEN OF POLAND [chap, xm 

had now come in spite of him : she was destined 
to wear the closed crown of royalty — and was 
really standing on the steps above him who had 
scorned an alliance with her. 

It was the bishop who placed the diamond crown 
on her head at the end of the ceremony, assisted 
by Madame de Senace, who was in attendance on 
the children, aided by the royal hair-dresser : it was 
verily, as Anne remarked, not a State ceremony. 

The two Queens then dined together, her 
Majesty of Poland placed at the right hand of the 
little King. He was allowed to dine with his 
mother on this occasion, but "petit Monsieur" 
was too young, and was carried away to his 
nurseries. The bride then received such persons 
as desired to be presented to her. The Abbe de 
la Riviere, meaning to pay her a compliment, but 
with very bad taste, said it would have been far 
better if she remained in France as Madame. 

Marie proudly raised her head, and in a clear 
voice, that all might hear, replied : 

"It was destined that Monsieur should remain 
in France as Due d' Orleans. My fate was to be a 
queen, and I am happy and content." 

Anne, who loved any excuse for a dance, gave 
a grand ball in honour of the occasion. The great 
hall of the Palais Royal, considered the finest 
ballroom in France, was the scene of revelry. 

Every delicacy was served at the supper, among 
others large baskets of sweet oranges and citrons, 
fruits which probably the envoys had never been 



1645] HER ARRIVAL AT WARSAW 113 

acquainted with in Poland, and they were invited 
to carry them away. 

The new Queen wore black velvet embroidered 
with gold, but the general opinion was that the 
dress was too heavy. The King, who could already 
dance very nicely, led her out. 

She shortly after prepared for her departure, and 
took a courteous farewell of all her friends and foes 
alike. She kissed all the ladies of quality, and 
begged them to be seated in her presence. Indeed, 
she clung to her old friends, in spite of her new 
regal airs, for, with the future all unknown, she 
dreaded leaving for a strange land. 

She was accompanied by the Due d'Elboeuf and 
the Marechale de Guebriant, also with a suitable 
following. 

At first her progress was one of triumph, all along 
the road after passing the frontier of Poland, but the 
pleasure was somewhat lessened when at last she 
found herself in the presence of the King. He was 
old and gouty, and enormously fat ; being unable 
to move about with comfort, he received her in 
Warsaw without any ceremony. He awaited her 
in the cathedral, seated in a chair, from which he 
did not attempt to rise. She knelt before him and 
kissed his hand, but he showed no pleasure what- 
ever in seeing her, he looked at her fixedly, and, 
turning to the Ambassador de Bregi, who was 
standing beside him, said aloud : 

" Is this the beauty of whom you gave me such 
a glowing description ? " 

15 



114 KING LADISLAS [chap, xm 

Marie stood aghast at this reception. Weary 
and travel-stained as she was, she thought there 
might possibly be some reason for the King's 
remark, but none the less she was cruelly mortified. 
Old Ladislas then left his chair and walked to 
the altar, where the happy couple were promptly 
united, he then sat down again for the rest of the 
service. 

Their Majesties repaired to the palace and 
supped together, but the food struck the Queen and 
the Marechale de Gu6briant as abominable, both in 
appearance and taste. 

As the evening wore on she was terrified at all 
she saw, and whispered to her lady that it would 
be better if they returned to France. The King 
never uttered a word to her, and went off to his 
own rooms. 

Madame de Guebriant lost no time in giving 
vent to her feelings, and assured those in authority 
that France would greatly resent the manner in 
which the new Queen had been treated. She 
declined to leave till she had seen the King show 
some mark of liking and respect for his wife. 
Seeing that evil consequences might arise, he 
agreed, to do so, and took her to live with him 
as his wife, and paid her some attention in 
-public' 

Queen Marie parted with Madame de Guebriant 
with many tears, but tried to console herself with 
the grandeur and wealth that was now hers. In 
Poland it was the habit for the subjects to give 



i645] A DEARLY BOUGHT CROWN 115 

magnificent presents to the bride of their Sovereign, 
and she was laden with rich gifts. 

With this cold comfort the unfortunate lady had 
to make the best of the life before her, and it was 
far from a happy one, but she earned the good- 
will of her people, as well as of the rest of Europe, 
by the noble use she made of her riches, and the 
courage and firmness she ever displayed. 



CHAPTER XIV 

GROWING ATTACHMENT OF THE QUEEN AND CARDINAL 

THE life at the court of France continued for 
some time without any great change occurring 
in the lives of those intimately brought together. 
Anne, happy in the society of her Minister, and 
leaning on him for advice and support, passed her 
time pleasantly according to her own taste. 

Her natural amiability caused her to be agree- 
able to those about her, and she, at least, did not 
perceive the smouldering hatred displayed towards 
the too powerful Cardinal. But the absolute power 
she put into his hands lessened her own, and in 
her desire that he should be beloved she failed 
to see that by her perpetual praise of him she 
defeated her own ends. 

(Mazarin had acquired an ascendancy over the 
Queen, and, whether he truly loved her or not, knew 
well how to give her pleasure. He sent to Italy for 
musicians and comedians, as the theatre was the 
thing she preferred above all else in way of relaxation. 

These comedies were entirely musical pieces, 
and were, no doubt, the beginning of the Opera, 
which was not fully known or appreciated till the 
following century. Besides the Italian pieces, 
French plays were much in vogue. 

ii6 



1645] ANNE'S LOVE OF THE THEATRE 117 

The court used to assemble most evenings in 
the small theatre of the Palais Royal, where the 
Queen had a private box which communicated 
with her own room. She used to brinof the Kine 
with her, and the Cardinal, and any persons to 
whom she wished to pay special politeness. 

This love that the Queen displayed for the Play 
so upset the good Cure of Saint-Germain that he 
came himself one morning to see Anne, and told 
her that in countenancing the stage she was com- 
mitting a mortal sin, and he brought her a 
document, signed by six ecclesiastics of the Sor- 
bonne, to the same effect. 

Evidently the presence of the Cardinal in the 
royal box in no way condoned the evil in their 
eyes. 

This upset Anne very much indeed, and she 
applied to the Abbe de Beaumont, tutor to the 
King, for spiritual advice and assistance. With 
the aid of ten other learned priests he was able 
to prove to her satisfaction that, if nothing was 
said in the play contrary to public morals, there 
was no harm in the pastime, and that the rules of 
the Church were no longer so strict as had been 
necessary among the early Christians. 

In this manner the Queen's conscience was set 
at rest. The courtiers laughed at the Cure and 
turned him into ridicule, and, moreover, declared 
the whole thing had been got up to throw dis- 
credit on the Minister. This last assertion was 
very likely true, for a conspiracy, political and 



ii8 EDUCATION OF THE KING [chap, xiv 

religious, had been formed against him in the 
convents, said to be in the interests of heaven 
and the care of religion. The Cardinal was 
supposed to tolerate Calvinism, among other things. 
The idea that the Queen at the age of forty-two 
was in love with an Italian and a cardinal of 
Richelieu's making, was more than the sanctity 
of the communities could endure. Mazarin himself 
writes at this period, " All the convents are against 
me, particularly that of Val-de-Grace." ^ 

Anne, ever since her children were born, had 
spoken of her great desire to see them well edu- 
cated, and as she was of opinion that the Cardinal 
possessed the profoundest intellect in Europe, she 
determined to place the education of the King in 
his hands. She left the choice of the tutors to 
him, and the Marquis de Villeroy was selected, 
with the Abbe de Beaumont under him. 

The poor little boy seems to have been put 
through a rather severe course, considering his 
tender years, for we read of him translating the 
Commentaries of Caesar. He also learnt to draw 
and ride and dance, besides being proficient in 
drill. 

In November the Queen received the news of 
the death of her nephew, Don Balthasar, only 
son of her brother, Philip IV. of Spain. For 
his sake she expressed great regret, but all the 
same she discussed the question of her own right 
to the throne of Spain in the event of her brother's 

^ Garnets de Mazarin, ii% p. 62. 



1647] THE ITALIAN TROUPE 119 

death, and she would hardly have regretted to see 
her second son succeed to that kingdom. For 
herself she cared little, but she was ever ambitious 
for her children. 

The Cardinal now turned his attention for a 
while from grave matters of State to lighter ones, 
and at the end of the Carnival of 1647 he gave 
a splendid entertainment, which was received with 
boundless applause. 

Of course the principal feature was a comedy to 
suit the Queen's taste, and the piece, which was 
called OrpJUe, cost 400,000 livres to put on.^ He 
sent to Italy for a troupe of well-known singers, 
and special machinery and scene-shifters. Unfor- 
tunately all these preparations took so long that 
it was nearly the end of the Carnival before it 
was ready ; as the idea was to give many per- 
formances, the Cardinal and the Due d'Orleans 
pressed the Queen to sanction it being played 
through Lent in her presence. 

But where her conscience was concerned Anne 
was always firm, and she refused. It was pain and 
grief to her to do so, especially as Mazarin dis- 
played a great deal of ill-humour on this occasion. 
Mis open displeasure caused much satisfaction 
among a certain set, who hoped that it might tend 
to lessen his influence over the Queen ; but 
though Anne held firm, and braved his anger, 
nothing that Mazarin could do made any real 
difference to her. Ever self-sacrificing, she solved 
^ Bazin, Histoire de France sous Mazarin. 



I20 MAZARIN'S GRAND BALL [chap, xiv 

the difficulty by retiring when the piece was half 
over, so as to have time for her prayers and go 
to bed early, so that nothing might interfere with 
her attending Mass the following morning ; and it 
was only the first performance that she saw from 
beginning to end. 

The following day the Cardinal gave a ball 
in the theatre, by means of a movable floor, which 
could be adjusted in a few moments. Panels with 
beautiful views and gilded frames were fixed all 
round, so that all semblance of a theatre had 
disappeared. Seats as if by magic lined the walls, 
and a throne rose up at the end of this wondrous 
hall — that is to say, a platform, with chairs under a 
canopy of cloth-of-gold. Great crystal chandeliers 
illumined the brilliant scene. 

The Prince of Wales,^ having joined his 
mother Henrietta Maria, was present, and was 
treated with much attention. The little King refused 
his own seat so as to place himself on an equality 
with his exiled cousin ; Mademoiselle d'Orleans was 
made the queen of the fete, and seated in what 
should have been his own place. 

She was covered with jewels, the Queen having 
adorned her with her own hands, and in her hair 
were diamonds tied together with red, white, and 
black ribbons. The King also wore crimson 
feathers and ribbons on his black satin habit. He 
was now eight years old, very well mannered, and 
danced to perfection. 

' Afterwards Charles II. 



1647] SCANDALOUS INSINUATIONS 121 

The Duchesse de Montbazon had a crimson 
plume resting on her hair, it being the colour of 
the evening ; her mature beauty showed to great 
advantage. The maids of honour, Mesdemoiselles 
de Pons, Querchy, and Saint-Martin, were 
thoroughly enjoying their flirtations and conquests, 
and hoping to find among some of the gallants who 
fluttered round them husbands suitable to their 
desires and ambitions.^ Tongues now began to 
wag freely, and many scandalous stories were 
current over the relations between the Queen 
and Cardinal. The episode between Anne and 
Buckingham, which had been grossly exaggerated 
at the time, had never been forgotten. Her 
calumniators strove to make out that she was 
a light woman, ready to welcome one lover after 
another. Her historians may exonerate her from 
that charge, but her passion for Mazarin is admitted 
by all. 

To give a pretext for their long and intimate 
conversations, the Cardinal introduced a change 
in the household, and elected to be almoner for 
her private charities.- 

It was the Due de Beaufort who first had his 
eyes opened to the growing intimacy between the 
Minister and the Sovereign, and told it in 
confidence to the youngest son of the Due de 
Vendome. Mazarin had long tried to win over these 
princes ; it was with him a regular system to begin 

' Memoires de Mottexnlle. 
* Garnets de Mazarin^ p. 96. 

16 



122 ANNE QUESTIONS LA PORTE [chap, xiv 

in the first Instance with his powers of seduction, 
and when all the amiable means were exhausted 
to proceed to more vigorous measures. But neither 
method was successful, and the Due de Vendome 
turned a deaf ear to the Cardinal's blandishments. 
Anne was aware of the feeling against her. One 
day she found a note on her table, containing these 
words, " Madame, if you do not get rid of the 
Cardinal, others will get rid of him for you."^ 

She taxed La Porte, the valet, with having placed 
it there, but the man denied all knowledge of it. 
He was a faithful servant and depository of all the 
Queen's secrets, but at the same time he considered 
it his duty to remonstrate with her. 

rOne afternoon when Anne happened to be alone, 
she was looking listlessly out of the windows — it was 
a wet day — with an air of great ennui. All at once 
she beckoned to her valet, who was watching his 
mistress with affectionate solicitude, to come 
forward. 

** What do they say of me. La Porte ? " she asked 
abruptly. 

La Porte looked rather sheepish. He found it 
a difficult question to answer, but the Queen was 
insistent. 

" If your Majesty insists on knowing," he 
stammered, " all the world is talking of you and his 
Eminence. In fact, people talk of little else." 

fA.nne flushed scarlet, and turning away, began to 
drum angrily on the window with her fan. The 
^Journal (tOlivier d'Onnesson^ vol. i, p. loi. 



1647] AND LEARNS THE SCANDAL 123 

servant stood in an attitude of humble respect, while 
his lady with difficulty restrained her anger ; the 
quick movement of her fan was only evidence of 
the wrath within. 

What! Was she obliged to defend her conduct, in 
the eyes of men, as if she were a common grisette ? 
The flaming colour in her cheeks told its own tale 
as to her resentment, yet she could not vindicate 
herself, and she stood convicted in the eyes of her 
own menial.^ 

When once the matter began to be voiced and 
put into a solid form, instead of a mere hint, it was a 
source of great anxiety to both the Queen's friends 
and enemies. 

Madame de Brienne, mother of the Count, an 
old lady who loved Anne well, was deputed to 
remonstrate with her.^ 

Full of motherly tenderness, she first asked the 
Queen to allow her to join with her in prayer, 
then, feeling that frankness was the only possible 
means by which she could approach the subject, she 
openly told her Majesty what rumours about her 
were spread abroad. 

Anne listened in silence with burning cheeks. 
Determined to emulate her old friend in frank- 
ness, she replied in a calm voice : ** I own that I am 
fond of Mazarin, and I admit that I have not been 
sufficiently prudent — though it is a calm and tender 
affection, devoid of all passion; but now, here 

' Memoires dc la Porte. 
* Memoires de Brienne. 



124 THE QUEEN'S OATH [chap, xiv 

in my private oratory before the altar, I renounce 
this friendship that was so dear, and our relations 
will never go beyond what is necessary for the 
aftairs of State." 

"Will you swear to this, Madame?" cried Madame 
de Brienne, in a voice trembling with emotion. 

" I swear it," replied the Queen. 

But, alas ! the oaths of lovers, as of gamesters, are 
written in water, and are but rarely kept. 

Poor weak Anne meant to do right, but she was 
as a bird in a fowler's net. She determined to have 
a thorough explanation with Mazarin, telling him all 
that had been said, and frankly discuss the situation 
with him. 

(Tt does not need a very profound knowledge af 
the human heart to be certain that, after listening 
to the Cardinal's tender warnings and specious 
reasonings, the Queen had sunk yet deeper into 
the abyss on the edge of which she had been 
standing, and Mazarin left the royal presence with 
the knowledge that the Queen was more firmly his 
than ever. 

As to his own feelings, it is impossible to gauge 
the depths of his affections ; for though love was true 
on her part, it must have been more or less simulated 
on his. If later on, as his contemporaries hint, he 
passed beyond and triumphed over the scruples of 
the Queen, it was because he saw in that the surest 
means of government. Ambition, not love, ruled 
Mazarin's conduct. 

The year drew to a close with deep anxiety at 



1647] THE KING HAS SMALL-POX 125 

court. One evening in November the King, who 
was playing at cards, apparently in the best of 
health, suddenly threw them down, and told his 
mother that he felt ill. It was not thought to be 
of much consequence, but by the next day he was 
in a high fever. The Queen was in despair, and 
sent off at once for Monsieur, his Majesty's uncle. 
After two days, the doctors pronounced the malady 
to be small-pox, that scourge which ravaged alike 
the Palace and the hovel, and from which neither 
kings nor peasants were exempt. All the beauties 
of the court, at least those who had so far escaped 
having the malady, fled from the Palace. " Petit 
Monsieur," who had been ill for some time, and was 
in rather a weak state, was promptly sent away. 
It was always supposed that Anne loved her little 
son the best of the two, but she displayed far more 
feeling on this occasion than she had done when he 
was ill. She never left the King's side, and though 
the disease ran its course without any complications, 
she fell ill herself from extreme anxiety. 

The Cardinal meanwhile was watching the case 
with deep concern, though of a different nature. 
What would happen should young Louis die, and the 
Queen-Regent become seriously ill ? It was thanks 
to himself that she had greatly lost her hold on the 
affections of her people ; and as in the event of the 
King's death it would be necessary for her to be 
re-elected Regent, the Due d'Orleans might take 
advantage of such a crisis to elevate himself to 
power. 



126 LOUIS' RECOVERY [chap, xiv 

The subtle Italian was, however, always prepared 
for emergencies, he worked quietly to gain those 
about the person of the duke, so that, by promises 
of advancement, he might bind them to his services. 

But his precautions were not needed ; by 
Christmas the King was pronounced to be well, 
and his little brother was brought back. When 
the child saw his former playmate he did not 
recognise him, for Louis' face was still red and 
swollen. But so prevalent was the disease, and 
so many people were marred by it, that it was not 
considered such a blemish as at the present time. 
Deep pock-marks after the inflammation had sub- 
sided were a very ordinary spectacle, and not much 
attention was paid to the disfigurement. 



CHAPTER XV 

mazarin's palace 

WHILE the court was still in residence at the 
Louvre, the Cardinal, by way of giving 
himself more independence, purchased the Hotel 
Tuboeuf, which was situated at the bottom of the 
garden of the Palais Royal. 

At first he had been satisfied to live in the Hotel 
St. Pol, then he accepted an apartment in the 
Louvre, but now he required something more. 

Two centuries ago this quarter of Paris was not, 
as now, a mass of bricks and mortar, with houses 
six stories high, and rows of shops beneath. Then 
it was a most lovely and charming suburb, with ex- 
tended views over the surrounding country. He had 
long had his eye on the H6tel Tuboeuf, and when the 
Queen moved to the Palais Royal he was able from her 
windows to judge of the effect of the coveted estate. 

The president Tuboeuf was only too pleased to get 
into the good graces of the Minister by selling him his 
house ; it was even said that Mazarin won the hotel 
from Tuboeuf at picquet ; but this was a fable, for he 
mentions several times in his notes how he acquired 
the house, and how much he had paid on account.^ 

' Among his papers were found in his own writing these words 
" La meta per la mia casa a M. Touboeuf." — Biblio, Roy. Fonds 
Balrizej p. "j-j. 

137 



128 HIS ART TREASURES [chap, xv 

But once he had taken possession he did not 
find the building at all up to his requirements, and 
he consulted his architect, Frangois Mansat, to 
make some improvements. He ordered a grand 
double staircase to be built, with a courtyard with 
double ingress and egress, and also planned a wing 
on the ground floor opening on the garden, the 
rooms of which were for his collection.^ Accus- 
tomed to frescoes in Italy, he did not like the cold 
nudity of French buildings ; he required more colour. 
He also drew a sketch or plan of his requirement ; 
this was known to have existed, though it cannot 
now be found. 

He wanted all the beauty of Rome in Paris, but 
nowhere in that city could he find the necessary 
artists — none were clever enough to please him. 
Therefore he sent for Romanelli and Grimaldi, 
who had decorated the Vatican. 

It is two hundred and sixty years since those 
two Italian painters fixed the memories of their 
sunny land on the walls of the Palais Mazarin. 
One adorned it with landscapes, the other with 
mythological groups. 

The gallery was painted from the roof to the 
parquet, and filled with the choicest articles. 
Tables of lapis-lazuli, mother-of-pearl, and gold, 
ebony and tortoise-shell cabinets, alabaster and 
porphyry figures and a wonderful ivory bed were 
among the art treasures. 

Though Mazarin had sent so far for his 
' La Borde, Palais Mazann, 



1648] HIS LIBRARY 129 

decorators, it was not that he wished to slight the 
land of his adoption. Later on he favoured French 
artists, but at the first he did not consider them up 
to his standard, for it was one of Mazarin's merits 
that he encouraged art and protected painters. This 
beautiful private palace was soon the talk of Europe, 
and the eyes of the world were drawn towards it. 
He now turned his attention to another department. 
His stables were said to be the finest in Europe, 
they extended the whole length of what was after- 
wards the Rue de Richelieu. There were three 
great entrances to the building, and seven inner 
courts, while the facade was richly adorned with 
sculptures and Ionic columns. He sent to Italy 
for his carriages, the art of coach-building having 
attained to great perfection there. He loved his 
horses, which mostly came from England, and had 
also Spanish mules which sometimes drew his coach, 
richly caparisoned ; he also had valuable dogs pro- 
cured from various countries, of breeds not known 
in France. 

The library contained forty thousand volumes, 
and was considered an institution of great merit. 
It is easy enough nowadays to form a library 
with that number of books, but then it was a 
great labour. The King's library, which had only 
ten thousand volumes, had hitherto been con- 
sidered a very valuable one ; and those lately 
founded by Bodley at Oxford, Angelo Bocca in 
Rome, and Borom^e in INlilan, were cited as rare 
and magnificent examples, though they could not 

17 



130 MAZARIN'S LUXURY [chap, xv 

be regarded as rivalling that in the Palais 
Mazarin. It was the Cardinal's own idea to make 
the largest collection yet known, and to open it 
daily to the public. Over the entrance was written 
the invitation, " Entrez tous qui veulent lire, 
entrez." ^ 

Few monuments have been of more use, and 
excited less regret, than this act of generosity of 
the great Cardinal, and it is satisfactory to re- 
member that he did not give himself over entirely 
to luxury, for his mind was open to better things. 
He loved letters, and wrote well, and he loved his 
books too, though he lacked time for much reading. 
He gave one proof of this in the care he bestowed 
on the bindings, and realising that bookbinding 
was a trade much practised in France he greatly 
encouraged it, which not only spoke well for his 
taste, but was also a politic movement. 

We cannot however exonerate Mazarin from a 
taste for luxury. He was an ease-loving man, much 
occupied with his comforts and the care of his 
person. He enjoyed fine linen and scents and 
unguents ; though when he first came to France 
he had been content with very modest surround- 
ings, he soon was determined not only to copy 
Richelieu, but to eclipse him, and now he put no 
bridle on his extravagances. 

(He was able to reach the Queen's apartment 
through the garden by a private staircase, but even 

' La Borde, Palais Mazarin. The library still exists, and is called 
" La Biblioth^que Nationale." 



1648] THE "RETIRO" 131 

this short distance was too far to please Anne. She 
assigned a suite in the Palais Royal for the sole 
use of the Minister, so his magnificent mansion 
became a mere place of rest when he wished to be 
alone, and it was called the " Retiro." 

Every large house in Paris at that time had a 
garden — that is, a parterre — laid out, but nobody 
sought to wander about, or be interested in watching 
the beauties of nature. The Cardinal's garden, how- 
ever, was much more than a parterre, it was a real 
attempt at what we call landscape gardening, with 
shady groves, and banks of flowers, and pleasant 
retired bosquets. 

Thus the two lovers lived in close proximity to 
each other, and were generally under the same roof. 
He had but to pass through the private passage 
to reach the Queen's room, and report said that he 
passed by that way very often. ^ 

The religious party still continued their struggle 
against this intimacy, which was only too well 
known. They tried to trouble the Queen's mind 
by telling her her immortal soul was in danger. 
The Cardinal knew this was where the danger lay, 
and that they assailed the weakest spot in her 
armour. 

He sought to fill her mind with other interests 
than those connected with pious works, and tried 
literature and art, hoping thus she would have fresh 
thoughts, and not brood over the ghostly counsels 
she received. But if Anne was devout, she was 

' Le Comte Bussy-Rabutin, Histoire en abreg^e de Louis le Grand. 



132 MAZARIN'S ASCENDENCY [chap, xv 

even more lazy, and he made but little progress in 
that direction. 

However, he knew her little weaknesses, her 
vanity of her person, her yielding nature, and he 
knew how to push this advantage home ; he made 
the most of all the gifts he possessed, and his 
cleverness and fascination resumed their sway. 
Those conferences that began by being of short 
duration gradually grew longer and longer, and more 
intimate, and lasted well into the night. ^ 

Anne was obstinate in many things, and tried to 
be resolute, but she could not withstand the siege 
that was laid to her heart. Though she had grown 
more serious and staid as time went on, she did not 
lose the one passion that remained steadfast and 
filled her whole life. Her friends even tried to 
involve her in fresh love affairs, but there was no 
room for any other love in her tender and devoted 
nature, and Mazarin's ascendency grew and con- 
solidated during these years of peace before the 
revolutionary movement. 

The pamphlets and gazetteers of the time no 
longer even attempted to veil the intimacy between 
the Queen-Regent and her Minister. In verse and 
in prose all sorts of ribald rhymes were scattered 
broadcast, some amusing, others coarse and wit- 
less.^ 

The author of the Reqiieste Civile, in writing on 
the subject, said, " If the rumour was true that they 

^ Le Chartre, Coll. Petitot^ vol. ii. p. 213. 

^ J^ret^ auteipr des chimsofts gb.scenes les '"'"Mc^zarimdcs!'' 



1648] SUPPOSED SECRET MARRIAGE 133 

were bound by a marriage, ratified by the Pere 
Vincent, then these impertinent, coarse remarks 
would have been long ago forgotten." 

Certainly these scurrilous verses were no proof, 
but they are a testimony to the general opinion. 

It was supposed by some that the Cardinal had 
married the Queen before he had taken full orders. 
The Princesse Palatine, who was sister to the 
Queen of Poland, and related to the royal family, 
held to this opinion, and in a letter written in 171 7 
she declared that Madame Beauvais, one of Anne's 
bed-chamber women, had been in the secret of 
this marriage, before Mazarin was bound by his 
obligations to remain a celibate ; but as these 
allegations were made seventy years after the 
events, they are of little value. ^ Others gravely 
affirm that he never did take orders at all.^ And 
others declared he never took the higher orders, 
but they have no proof to bring forward.^ There 
is more truth in the fact that he was appointed 
Cardinal in 1641, and clothed with full ecclesiastical 
dignities,"* and that he administered the Sacraments 
to his dying sister — a proof that he did receive 
full orders of the priesthood.^ Moreover, Pope 
Urban VIII., who might easily have granted him 
a dispensation, would never have allowed him to 

' Mhnoires de la Princesse Palatine^ published in Brunswick in 
1789. 

* Michelet, M. Cheriiel, Editeur de Saint-Simon. 

' Aubery, Histoire du Cardinal Mazarin^ published 1695. 
■* Proces-vei'bal du Consistoire, 1641. 

* Daniel de Cosnac, Archeveque d'Aix, Mentoires, vol. i. p. 252, 
published by the Societe de I'Histojre de France, 



134 MAZARIN'S FAITHFUL LOVE [chap, xv 

retain the purple and remain a Cardinal, had he 
been married by the rites of the Church. 

It would be easy to bring many more authorities 
to bear, but enough has been said on this subject, 
which has served for a great deal of discussion, and 
which certainly can never be verified or cleared up. 

The study of their lives seems to render all these 
theories an absurdity. That the union that existed 
between them, which may possibly have been only 
a union of heart and inclination, was consecrated 
by marriage, seems doubtful, although Mazarin's 
letters to the Queen, of which more hereafter, were 
of an ardent nature, suggesting some tie between 
them. But the whole tenor of their history does 
not point to any authorised marriage. 

It was no passing sentiment, and Mazarin re- 
mained true to Anne to the end of his days. We 
read of no love affairs in other quarters, and his life 
was spent in a regular manner and without scandal. 
He never stood in the attitude of a husband ; all 
their correspondence was of a passionate, anxious 
nature, far removed from the calm and peaceful 
confidence of matrimony. If Mazarin was lacking 
in the warm affection the Queen displayed, in a 
man of his nature it was not surprising that her 
perpetual tenderness often caused him moments of 
impatience ; but such has ever been the end of a 
secret passion, generally more fervent In the heart 
of the woman than in that of the man. 

A change was inevitable as years went on. 
Mazarin was a very devoted and submissive lover 



i648] HIS DOMINION OVER ANNE 135 

in the first instance, then growing bolder, and 
becoming full of passion, or feigning to be so. 
After that he needed moments of relief from the 
yoke he had thus put upon himself, and he became 
more despotic, more exacting, with his ardour 
gradually getting colder, while that of Anne remained 
ever the same. 

He dominated her often by unkindness, and she 
trembled at his anger, and his counsels were orders 
to be obeyed, but on the whole their relations 
were peaceful.-^ A nature such as Anne's was bound 
to be overruled, and in obeying him she found her 
truest happiness. 

^ Menioires de PAbbe de Choisy. 



CHAPTER XVI 

GATHERING STORMS 

1"*HE Cardinal, being now suitably lodged, deter- 
mined to bring some members of his family 
from Italy to reside with him. He had much 
natural affection, and had always kept up very 
friendly relations with his sisters. 

It was accordingly arranged between them that 
Madame Martinozzi should send her daughter Anna 
Maria, and that two girls and a boy of the Mancini 
family should accompany their cousin/ These girls 
were all pretty, and just entering their teens; the 
Mancini were brunettes, while Mademoiselle de 
Martinozzi was fair and very handsome. 

A great future lay before these children, especially 
the girls. The Due d'Orleans remarked on seeing 
them, '* All the world will gather round these little 
girls, and nearly smother them with attentions ; they 
will soon have fine houses, good fortunes, jewels 
and plate, and probably attain to high dignities. 
But the boy must make his way, which will take 
more time, and he may never attain to the good 
fortune he will see dangling before his eyes," — • 

^ Anna Maria married eventually the Prince de Conti ; Laure, the 
eldest of the Mancini, married the Due de Mercoeur ; and Olympe, 
the second, married the Comte de Soissons. 

136 



1648] THE CARDINAL'S NIECES 137 

meaning that the uncle might sink from his 
present high estate before his nephew had come to 
manhood. As a fact the boy died before his august 
relative, being killed in a combat in the Faubourg 
St. Antoine.^ 

When the Cardinal received word of the arrival 
of the children, he left the Queen and hastened to 
meet them in his own house. He brouoht them 
over that evening to the Palais Royal, to present 
them to Anne, who kissed them very affectionately 
and admired them greatly.^ 

The offspring of the sisters of Mazarin showed 
plainly the vigorous race from which he sprang, 
and nearly all of them gave great promise of 
beauty as well as glowing health. The Cardinal 
did not appear to pay much attention to them at 
first, though there is no doubt he had great designs 
for their future, and his indifference was assumed. 
The following day they again returned to court, 
and, as the Due d'Orleans had remarked, were in 
danger of being smothered by too many attentions ; 
but their extreme youth obliged them to be kept 
for a while in the background. 

On Twelfth Night the Queen spent the evening in 
solitude ; she liked the calm and peace of a few 
hours alone after all the many festivities of the 
opening year, and was quite indifferent to State 
receptions, or the crowds who thought it their duty 
to appear before her. Mazarin was supping at the 

' He was killed July 2, 165 1. 

* Amedee Rene, NUces de Mazari?t. 

18 



138 TWELFTH NIGHT [chap, xvi 

Prince de Conde s, and all the retinue of the court 
had flocked there. This caused no annoyance to 
/^nne — her one wish was that all should follow and 
pay court to the Minister, but to amuse the children 
she sent for a cake, and the ladies who were in 
waiting partook of the little feast, and drank their 
healths in hippocras. Whatever her tastes might 
have been in her young days, she now showed a 
preference for quiet home amusements. 

Although the atmosphere seemed to be calm, this 
was far from being the case, already there was a 
vague murmur of discontent, and the air was 
charged with revolt. 

A mutiny had broken out among the shop-keepers 
in Paris, on account of a new tax which had been 
laid upon them. Their numbers having increased 
considerably, they sought an interview with the 
Minister, and expressed themselves with such 
violence that he was completely taken aback. The 
Queen had been obliged to hold a Council to discuss 
what measures should be taken to suppress these 
disorders. 

The princes of the blood treated the matter 
lightly, and did not forgo their Twelfth Night enter- 
tainment, but though the Cardinal willingly joined 
their parties in order to forget these troubles in 
feasting and gaming, he was far from easy. 

The following morning, on her way to Mass, the 
Queen was beset by two hundred women, who 
followed her to the church crying out for justice. 
This alarmed her greatly, especially as it had been 



1648] MAZARIN'S REVENUES 139 

arranged that the King should attend a thanksgiving 
service after his late recovery ; as it had been 
publicly announced, Anne did not dare to put it off. 
She let him go in fear and trembling, and ordered 
his guards to be doubled. 

Meanwhile there were various abuses in the 
palace itself, which were causing comment. It was 
said that only the higher salaried officers of the 
Crown ever got paid, and that their juniors had to 
go without, also that the Queen had ceased to show 
that fine liberality for which she had been noted. 

Angry comments were made, as the savings of 
the past year had amounted to 42 millions, there 
should have been no lack of money. The Cardinal 
was accredited with having kept back half for 
himself, but as the princes took their share, it "was 
impossible he should have annexed such vast sums 
as was supposed. The princes were called the 
*' thieves," the Cardinal the ** Corsair," and a cry 
arose against the Minister. There was no doubt 
that he received enormous sums at the expense of 
the nation, and his revenues were immense. The 
charge of the King's education was supposed to be 
purely honorary, but for that he received 60,000 
livres ; pay of Minister, 20,000 ; pay of Member of 
Council, 6,000; pay of Cardinal, 18,000; extra 
pension from Queen, 110,000 ; and later on he had 
21 abbayes, which were worth 468,330 livres.^ 

No wonder that an outcry was being made. The 

^ Lettres (P Instructions^ Mimoires de Colbert^\o\. i. p. 520, published 
by Clement. 



140 MAZARIN DISPLEASED [chap, xvi 

perpetual assembling of the Parlement and deputa- 
tions worried the Queen greatly ; she quite lost heart, 
and used to say despondently after one of these meet- 
ings, " I suppose it will all begin again to-morrow." 

Once, even in the presence of the Due d'Orleans, 
she became so exasperated that she showed dis- 
pleasure with the Minister, and seemed to lay the 
blame on him. As soon as the Duke had left the 
room, Mazarin, who always outstayed every one 
else, said sternly : 

" I perceive, Madame, that your Majesty is 
offended with me. I have not succeeded in my 
constant desire, which is to serve you. My head 
must answer for it." ^ 

Poor Anne burst into tears — the anger of Mazarin 
was always more than she could bear ; she poured 
out a flood of apologies and entreaties, till at last 
he allowed himself to be mollified. 

The deputies continued to address angry re- 
monstrances to the Queen. The state of the 
finances alone rendered the situation dangerous, but 
Anne could not be brought to see this. She 
laughed at the very idea of serious trouble, and said 
that revolutions were not such easy things in Paris 
as they seemed to imagine, and that for her part 
she knew how to throw roses to her deputies, but 
that if they would not give way she knew how to 
punish them.^ 

The fact is, like many weak and vain persons, 

^ Menioires de Retz. 

^ Avocat-General, Mimoires d^Onier Talon, 



1648] HE COUNSELS PRUDENCE 141 

she, had a great idea of her own importance, she 
could not be brought to see that her influence was 
waning, and she objected extremely to any re- 
proaches that seemed to lessen the royal dignity. 

She agreed to attend the assembly with the King, 
but it was remarked that the cries of " Vive le Roi " 
were few, and that a general chilliness pervaded 
the meeting. 

The Minister was infinitely annoyed by this spirit 
of hostility, but his policy was always for moderation. 
He kept the Queen back as much as possible, and 
tried to prevent her making speeches. He was 
determined to hazard nothing, and, above all, not 
even allow the semblance of a civil war ; but in spite 
of his prudence, trouble was inevitable. 

On the great fete-day in August, 1648, the King 
went to attend vespers at Notre Dame, accompanied 
by the Cardinal. Anne had gone, according to her 
custom, into retreat at Val-de-Grace. Her rigid 
habits of devotion must often have annoyed Mazarin, 
that callous man of the world, who made no 
pretence even to so much religion as might have 
been expected from one of his calling. In the 
Mdmoires of Madame de Motteville, there is always 
a strong note of disapproval of the Cardinal. It 
was only natural that the faithful bed-chamber 
woman should have viewed with hostility the lover 
of her mistress, although she never would admit that 
he actually stood in this relation, and only wrote of 
him with great bitterness, ignoring all statements 
that would sound injurious to the Queen. 



142 RIOT AT NOTRE DAME [chap, xvi 

The Marquis de Gesvres, Captain of the Guard, 
was in attendance on the King, and it was his duty 
to keep all outsiders froni entering the cloisters 
while his Majesty was going in procession round 
them. The place was full of roughs, and they 
absolutely refused to go, and replied insolently to the 
lieutenant, M. de ITle, that they would not move. 

De Gesvres, in this emergency, ordered his 
subaltern to turn them out any way he could. A 
riot at once ensued, and two of the guards lay dead 
on the ground within the sacred precincts. 

It was a crime of lese-majesty to draw a sword in 
the King's presence. A great feeling of uneasiness 
arose after this incident, and the Cardinal, besides, 
was furious because he had not been consulted first 
as to what measures should be taken, seeing that 
he was in charpfe of the Sovereig-n.^ 

Jarze, a friend of the Provost, blamed De Gesvres 
for having been too prompt in his action, and so 
much stir was made that next morning the Marquis 
de Gesvres was ordered to give up his marechal's 
baton. His father, the Comte de Tremes, there- 
upon came and complained to the Minister of the 
treatment meted out to his son, and the Cardinal 
replied that, as Minister and chief tutor to the 
King, no orders should have been given in his 
presence, and he considered that the Marquis had 
been entirely in the wrong. 

^ Montglat accuses the Cardinal of cowardice. He changed 
colour when the swords were drawn, and as every one noticed his 
fear he became ashamed, and revenged himself on the Marquis de 
Gesvres. — Memoires Monts:lat. 



1648] CAPTAIN OF GUARD DISMISSED 143 

In the evening, when the Queen came in from 
her drive, Louis ran to embrace her, and as she 
noticed that he was not accompanied as usual by 
the Captain of the Guard, she asked the reason. 

It was told her that the Comte de Tremes refused 
to allow the Comte du Charost, who had been 
appointed in the place of his son, to take up the post. 

" This is too much ! " cried the outraged Queen. 
" Have things come to such a pass that it is con- 
sidered an honour to disobey me ? " 

The Cardinal was sent for, and she ordered the 
four Captains of the Guard to appear — the Marquis 
de Villequier, the Comte de Tremes, the Comte de 
Charost, and the Marquis de Chandenier. 

She reprimanded them all severely, but when 
they began to back each other up, and give their 
reasons, she lost her temper, and telling them that 
she would find others who would obey her better, 
she turned them out. 

The court was now in an uproar ; some approved 
of the Queen's high-handed measure, especially at 
a time when her authority was being disputed, others 
took the part of the disgraced officers. 

As a rule, the kindness of Anne's heart prevented 
her from ever turning any one out of her household, 
but whether the disturbance in the air had con- 
taminated her also, or whether she was influenced by 
her knowledge of the Cardinal's aversion to some 
of these men, she would not reconsider her decision, 
and thus added one more to the many grievances 
which his enemies had now piled up against Mazarin. 



CHAPTER XVII 

MAZARIN IN DANGER 

IN August the news of the death of the King 
of Poland was received. The Queen took 
but little interest in this intelligence, and only felt 
annoyance at having to put her court in mourning. 
She did not care enough for his widow, on whose 
head she had helped to place the royal crown, to 
give much thought to what became of her. 

The affairs at home were much more pressing, 
and the battle of Lens, which was won by the 
French army that same month, was of far greater 
moment. The Queen desired that a solemn Te 
Deum should be sung at Notre Dame as a thanks- 
giving to God, who had granted success to their 
arms, and she took advantage of this day of triumph 
to arrest suddenly three of the chief leaders of the 
opposition — Blancmesnil, Charton, and an aged 
councillor named Broussel. This was intended as 
a punishment for the Parlement, who had so often 
disobeyed her orders. Broussel was a man over 
sixty years of age, and had always been a somewhat 
violent member of the opposition. 

De Cominges was charged with the carrying out of 

this arrest — no easy matter, as Broussel was the idol 

144 



1648] ARREST OF BROUSSEL 145 

of the people. He went in his own carriage with 
four of his guards to the Rue Saint Landry, where 
the old councillor lived. It was so narrow that they 
were obliged to get out of the vehicle and proceed 
on foot. 

The officer in charge knocked at the door of the 
house, and a little page opened it. They at once 
seized the entrance, and going in found Broussel 
seated with his family at dinner. De Cominges 
showed the order for his arrest, signed in the King's 
name, and desired him to come at once, and without 
resistance. 

Broussel at first replied that he was ill and unable 
to comply, and then asked leave to be at least 
allowed to dress decently, as he was only in a 
dressing-gown and slippers. 

While they were parleying an old woman in the 
house raised an alarm, crying out for help, and 
loading the men with shrill abuse. The neighbours 
came running out, and when they saw a coach with 
soldiers and arms they were filled with rage, and 
rushed to the rescue : some wanted to cut the 
harness, others to smash the carriage. The officer, 
seeing that there was no time to lose, threatened 
Broussel with instant death if he lingered, and 
tearing him from the arms of his relations, hurried 
him to the coach. 

But the rescuers had been before him, and he 
found that chains had been thrown across the streets, 
so that he had to turn back and double in all 
directions. The intrepid De Cominges would 

19 



146 THE TUMULT [chap, xvii 

hardly have succeeded in carrying off his prisoner, 
his coach being overturned, if he had not met 
a company of his own guards, who came to his 
assistance. They seized upon a passing coach full 
of ladies, and, in spite of their remonstrances, 
turned them out and put Broussel into it, and 
obliged the coachman to drive on, while the 
populace wrecked the vehicle of De Cominges as 
the only vengeance in their power.^ 

Even this tumult did not rouse those at court to 
the imminent danger. Anne did not understand 
the situation, and Mazarin scorned the idea of peril. 
Consternation prevailed all the same. 

" If Mazarin does not take care," said the Prince 
de Conde, " he will ruin the State," and indeed it 
looked like it at that moment. 

When the morrow broke there were no signs of 
peace, rather had the tumult increased. The 
Chancellor Lequier fled for his life to the palace. 
The people wished to seize him, crying out, " It 
will be prisoner for prisoner, and we can make 
an exchange." Others more brutal said, " No, 
rather let us tear him limb from limb." 

When the Queen awoke on the second morning, 
this was the news that was brought to her, as well 
as the report that the Parlement were sending a 
deputation to claim the release of the prisoner, so 
that she had to rise and dress at once. 

The palace at this time was full of company, 
including the English Queen. Mazarin looked 

^ Memoires de Brienne, Coll. Petitot. 



1648] BROUSSEL RELEASED 147 

calm as ever, and displayed neither fear nor anxiety. 
He attended the meeting as usual, placed at the 
Queen's side. It took place in the small gallery, 
and was an informal affair. Anne was extremely 
indignant, and blamed the chief magistrates in no 
measured terms. "The King my son will one 
day learn what happened, and will punish you 
severely." 

The Cardinal spoke much more moderately, and 
said that doubtless the prisoners would be released if 
they would engage not to interfere in public affairs.^ 
The Cardinal de Retz advised the Queen "to give 
up the old rascal dead or alive, to restore him 
dead might not be in accordance with her piety or 
prudence, but to restore him alive would quell the 
tumult."" 

In the end Anne was unwillingly obliged to give 
way. It was an humiliation for her, her Minister, 
and all such persons as cared for the honour of 
France. 

The members of the Parlement departed from 
the Palais Royal in triumph. Crowds were waiting 
to know the result, and they replied that they had 
received a promise for the release of Broussel ; but 
so great was the rage and indignation against the 
Queen and Cardinal that the people did not 
hesitate to declare that, should the promise be 
broken, they would sack the palace, and turn out 
the insolent foreigner who ruled the affairs of the 

' Mimoires d'Omer Talon. 

* Memoires du Cardinal de Retz. 



148 TERROR AT COURT [chap, xvii 

nation, and cries arose of " Long live the King, but 
no one else save Broussel." It might have been 
thought when Broussel had been released that all 
the riotinof would subside, but one set of malcontents 
after another kept up the flames and riots in the 
Rue Saint-Honore and the Rue Saint-Antoine, 
filling even the mocking courtiers with alarm, and 
fears were entertained that the palace would be set 
on fire. 

The horrible peril she was in was brought 
forcibly before the Queen by Jarze, the new 
Captain of Guard. With some ostentation he said, 

" Madame, we are but a handful of men here, 
but we will die at our post." 

Mazarin at this crisis seemed paralysed with fear, 
and gave the Queen no comfort, but though the 
words of Jarze struck a chill to her heart, she showed 
laudable calmness, and with a courage worthy of 
a granddaughter of the valiant Charles V., she 
replied, 

" Do not fear. God will protect the innocent 
King; let us put our trust in Him." ^ 

She remained all the following night ready in 
case of an alarm, while Mazarin abandoned his 
violet robes for a grey suit, as at any moment he 
might be obliged to flee, and his horses were kept 
saddled all night. 

But by degrees the mob scattered in all direc- 
tions, in that extraordinary way in which crowds 
melt away without any apparent reason for it ; the 

^ Memoir es de Motteville. 



1648] THE KING LEAVES FOR RUEIL 149 

people returned to their own homes, and for this 
time at least Paris was saved. 

The Queen's nerves, however, were sadly shaken. 
On September 12 she announced her intention of 
going to Rueil for a few days, giving as her reason 
that the Palais Royal was in such a filthy con- 
dition that it was necessary to put it in the hands of 
the cleaners. 

The people had shown openly their distrust of 
the King being removed from Paris, and the 
Cardinal had been so loaded with imprecations that 
he did not even dare return to his own house. Only 
the Queen drove abroad and showed herself in- 
cessantly ; but she longed all the more for the 
peace and safety of country life, and on the pretext 
above named made her preparations to leave. 

The following morning at six o'clock the King, 
accompanied by the Cardinal, drove out before 
Paris had awakened from its slumbers. At the 
town gates some idlers who recognised them raised 
a cry of " Aux armes," and tried to stop the 
royal coach, but they were not in sufficient 
numbers to do any mischief The Queen had 
remained behind with "petit Monsieur," so as to 
give colour to the idea that their departure was a 
matter of no moment. 

The Cardinal, who was anxious about her, sent 
back a messenger begging her to follow with as 
little delay as possible ; but with far more courage 
than he displayed, and without changing any of her 
arrangements, she bade her little boy good-bye (he 



I50 RETURN TO PARIS [chap, xvn 

was recovering from the small-pox) and drove off 
to see her friends the nuns at Val-de-Grace. From 
there she went to the Hotel de Ville, to give an 
audience to the Provost of the Markets, and then 
quietly gave the order to proceed to Rueil,^ 

There was really nothing extraordinary in re- 
moving the court from Paris at that season ; but the 
people were in such an irritable condition it was hard 
to say what they might not resent ; once safely away, 
however, neither the Queen nor the Cardinal had any 
desire to return. When it was proposed that the 
latter should do so, he objected, and said it would 
be against the wishes of the Due d' Orleans ; this 
subterfuge did not impose on any one, certainly not 
on the Duke, who laughed at it with scorn. 

The court did not return to Paris till the approach 
of winter obliged them to do so. 

^ Memoires de Brienne. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE FRONDE 

ONCE more a new year was begun, and the 
f^te of Twelfth Night, which was held with 
so much festivity in France, was destined, in 1649, 
to be fraught with great consequences. 

Anne had held a secret council, at which it was 
decided that the King and Queen should leave 
Paris, for the only way to reduce the magistrates, 
the insurgents, and the populace to order was to 
blockade the capital. The 6th of January was the 
day fixed on. 

The Queen spent the evening in playing a 
game with the King, her ladies standing round 
watching it — in those court circles people found 
their amusement in doing nothing at all — when one 
of them, Madame de la Tremouille, was ill-advised 
enough to whisper, 

'* There is a rumour in Paris that the Queen is 
leaving to-night." 

Anne either did not hear or paid no attention. 
She helped the King to cut up the cake, asking 
her ladies to take slices, while one was set aside for 
the Virgin.^ That one slice contained the bean, 

' Mitnoires de Motteville^ vol. ii. 



152 MIDNIGHT AT THE PALACE [chap, xvm 

and as there was no claimant for it, Anne was 
proclaimed " Reine de la Feve." 

These innocent amusements were continued into 
the night, and a joke was raised about her Majesty's 
proposed departure, which was treated as absurd. 

Just before she retired for the night her equerry 
Beringhen came in, she took him aside, and in a 
whisper ordered the King's carriage to be got ready. 

After midnight she rose from her seat, and in- 
formed her ladies that she was going to speak to 
the Minister about an important charity. As they 
afterwards remarked, this might have opened their 
eyes to the fact that something unusual was going 
on, for she was not in the habit of explaining her 
actions to them. 

After the consultation was over — it was but a 
few hurried words — the Queen undressed and got 
into bed. Meanwhile Mademoiselle de Beaumont, 
who had come in from supping with Beringhen, 
gave it as her opinion to the others that some 
design was on foot, and that it was no joking 
matter. 

When all was quiet in the palace, Anne rose, 
assisted by the waiting-woman on duty in the 
royal bed-chamber. At three in the morning the 
King and " petit Monsieur " were roused and 
carried down to where the carriages were waiting 
in the great courtyard. 

The Cardinal had spent the evening supping 
with the Due d'Orleans, to allay suspicion ; but he 
too had laid his plans, and his household were even 



1649] ANNE'S FLIGHT 153 

then engaged in packing up his valuables, and 
removing his nieces to the care of Madame de 
Senac^. 

It was dark and cold, a bitter winter night. The 
Queen, followed by her woman, had slipped down 
the little private staircase that led from her room 
to the garden — only one small lantern guided her 
stumbling steps — and joined her sons in the court- 
yard. Considering the number of people con- 
cerned in the enterprise, the secret had been well 
kept. 

The Captains of the Guards and her principal 
ladies were in waiting. The Princes of the blood, 
with Madame and Mademoiselle d'Orleans, and 
the Princesses de Conde were grouped together ; 
these with their attendants made a large party. 
The friends and relations about to depart clung 
together so as to seek safety with those they loved, 
for Paris at daybreak was to be made to suffer for 
the King's displeasure towards his capital. The 
Cardinal was in attendance, his followers were 
assembled in large numbers, feeling, and with truth, 
that for them there was no safety save in flight. 

The Queen courageously made light of this 
midnight journey, declaring that eight days would 
see them back, and mounted into her coach with 
the King and the Minister, wrapped in furs against 
the inclemency of the weather. " Petit Monsieur" 
was in another carriage with his attendants. The 
great gates were opened, and the heavy coaches 
rolled out into the deserted streets. 

20 



154 DISCOMFORT AT ST. GERMAIN [chap, xvm 

But if she looked on it as a picnic, it was going 
to prove a very uncomfortable one. 

When the royal party reached St. Germain-en- 
Laye, they found themselves in an empty palace, 
without beds, or furniture, or plate, or linen, and 
also without any household, as it was always the 
custom when the court moved to bring all 
necessaries with them. 

The Cardinal had had the forethought to send 
out two little camp-beds a few days previously. 
Into these the Queen and the royal children crept, 
chilled to the bone, to take a few hours of restless 
slumber. 

The Duchesse d'Orleans slept on a pile of straw, 
and Mademoiselle did the same. All who had 
followed the court had no better couches either, and 
in a few hours straw had become so valuable in 
St. Germain that it was not to be got for love 
or money. ^ 

When it was known at daybreak that the King 
and Queen-Regent had left Paris the greatest 
consternation prevailed. They had both left letters 
for the Deputies, declaring that they wished no 
harm to their people, but the state of things was such 
that they could no longer reside in their capital in 
safety. Those of their adherents who had remained 
in Paris were in hourly dread of pillage, and not 
without cause, for the houses of the nobles were 
shortly searched, and many fled disguised as 
women ; but they had so many grievous adventures 

^ Memoires de Brienne. 



I649J THE FRONDE 155 

before they reached St. Germain, they might almost 
better have remained. 

Meanwhile the King's army was ordered to 
blockade the city, and seize all the provisions that 
were brought in from the country ; the idea was 
that a week at the very most of this treatment 
would bring the Parisians to their senses. But they 
had greatly miscalculated the strength of the 
insurgents. 

The party led by the Due de Bouillon against 
the King's troops received the title of La Fronde.^ 
The Prince de Conti was declared generalissimo of 
the army of La Fronde, and, accompanied by his 
sister, Madame de Longueville, they having both 
openly thrown off allegiance to the royal cause, 
repaired to the Hotel de Ville, where they were 
joined by the Duchesse de Bouillon. 

These ladies were both very beautiful ; they 
stood on the steps outside the building, each holding 
in her arms a lovely child, and declaring they were 
hostages in the hands of the people. The crowds, 
which not only filled the streets, but swarmed upon 
the house-tops, received them with enthusiasm, they 

' The origin of this name arose from an exercise employed by the 
volunteers for amusement in the ditches outside Paris, of throwing 
stones with slings called " frondes." In the assembly one day the son 
of one of the councillors, who was in opposition to his father, said, 
" Quand ce sera k mon tour, je fronderai bien I'opinion de mon pere." 
Being a play on the word, which had a double meaning, and was 
sometimes used for censure or taunt. This made his hearers laugh, 
and after that all those in opposition to the court party were called 
frondeurs. The word was taken up, the shop-keepers seized upon it, 
and hats, ribbons, gloves, and fans were called "A la mode de la 
Yxoxi^^^^—Mhnoires de Motits:lat and De Retz. 



IS6 QUEEN OF THE FRONDEURS [chap, xvm 

and their husbands being greeted as saviours of the 
people. 

Madame de Longueville was constituted Queen 
by the frondeurs, and her court was singularly free 
from etiquette, for the greatest freedom prevailed. 
The most violent declamations against the Queen 
and Cardinal were to be heard, and the licentious 
young officers flocked in numbers to offer their 
homage to the beautiful Duchess.^ 

On January 2 1 the generals of the Fronde made 
a grand sortie, with the view to bringing in a convoy 
of wheat, which, however, they could not find, and 
brought nothing back from this great military 
exploit but violent colds, as the weather was bitter. 
Bread had begun to rise in price, and anger against 
any persons suspected of being Mazarins was very 
violent. 

Even the servants of the palace were maltreated, 
and the King's furniture and even his clothes were 
seized. 

Meanwhile the nobles at St. Germains were in a 
sad plight. Their numbers had greatly increased, 
which added to the difficulty of providing for them. 
They had no furniture but what the soldiers of the 
royal army were able to procure by ransacking the 
villages in the neighbourhood. 

The Due d'Orleans was extremely annoyed at 
the part his brother, the Prince de Conti, had taken, 
as well as his sister, Madame de Longueville. De 
Conti was neither physically nor mentally fit for the 

^ Memoires de Brienne, 



1649] HATRED FOR MAZARIN 157 

task he had undertaken ; he was hump-backed, and 
had never been considered to have much sense, 
and his brother was therefore doubly annoyed at 
the position he had been placed in.^ 

Once more ih& frondeurs sent out their army, but 
it really consisted of the lowest rabble of Paris, and 
the Prince de Conti could do nothing with them. 
It was a strange state of things — a besieged town 
supported by the Parlement, and no one very certain 
as to who could be trusted. 

The Due d'Orleans sent the deputies a letter of 
explanation, saying he felt it his duty to remain by 
the King and Queen, but that he was filled with 
grief at the siege of Paris, and advised peace. 

Mazarin, knowing the hatred in which he was 
held, announced that he thought it would be well 
if he left France, as long as the royal prestige 
would not be hurt by his doing so. 

Some one said mockingly to him that all would 
go well if he would only depart, upon which he 
replied in all seriousness that he was ready to go if 
only he could see the King obeyed and respected 
by his people. There were not wanting some in 
authority who counselled the Queen to dismiss 
Mazarin; but while such advice was against the 
dictates of her own heart, she also declared she had 
no one to put in his place. 

' " Le Prince de Conti etait bossu et contrefait tellement, que le 
Prince de Conde passant par la chambre du Roi saluat fort 
humblement un singe qui etait attache a un chenet de la cheminde 
disant avec derision, ' Serviteur au generalissimo des Parisiens.'" 
— Memoires de Montglat. 



158 DISTRESS IN PARIS [chap, xvm 

The Cardinal was always in negotiation with 
people inside Paris, either treating with bis enemies, 
or with those who, hating him, yet thought it 
advisable not to quarrel with him altogether. In 
this he resembled Catherine de' Medici, who to gain 
time made peace with the Huguenots more than 
once. 

The two armies continued to face each other, 
without doing much harm on either side. That of 
the King had done all that it intended to do ; that 
of Paris was too feeble to attack, and, lacking in 
courage as well, remained in the Place Royale.^ 

The Due de Beaufort made one more attempt to 
seize a convoy of wheat and oxen, which were 
sorely needed, and this time he was successful. He 
risked his own life in the enterprise, and when it 
was known that he was returning with his spoils 
such crowds went out to meet him that the whole 
night was spent, and part of the next day, in trying 
to get the animals 'through the dense throng, which 
was one struggling mass of men and beasts. 

On February 12 a Herald -at- Arms on the part of 
the King arrived at the gate of St. Honore. But 
the Captain of the Guard refused him admittance 
unless he had a pass from the Prince de Conti.^ 
The Queen, hearing of the distress among the 
poor, sold some valuable earrings, and ordered the 

* The Prince de Conti held reviews in the Place Royale in presence 
of the ladies, who greatly admired the troops, as they were very gay, 
the soldiers adorned with ribbons. — Memoires de Montglat. 

* The Cardinal suggests that this was really a trap on the part of 
Mazarin, and not an overture for peace. — Metnoires de Retz. 



1649] "NO PEACE. NO MAZARIN" 159 

money to be distributed among the starving 
populace : in return they loaded her with impre- 
cations. 

While these horrors were going on, far worse 
ones were happening across the Channel, where 
the luckless King of England, Charles I., had met 
his fate on the scaffold. It almost seemed as if 
divine justice was threatening all the courts of 
Europe, not even sparing the unfortunate or 
innocent. His unhappy wife was bowed down 
with grief when the news was brought to her, living 
as she was in the midst of the miseries in her own 
native country. 

Deputation after deputation went between Paris 
and St. Germain, without coming to any deter- 
mination on either side ; but still the cry of the 
people was, "No peace. No Mazarin. We will 
fetch back our good King and throw the Mazarins 
into the river." Against such feelings the wisest 
and most moderate were powerless. 

But when things had got to this pass, news 
arrived which humbled the pride of the Parisians. 
The King's army would shortly be augmented by 
Vicomte de Turenne's battalions returning from 
Germany, and the tide of war seemed about to turn. 
The generals of the Fronde now saw fit to enter 
into a treaty. Their troops had proved themselves 
of little account, and all their remonstrances had 
failed to remove the hated Italian. 

Moreover, certain people even in the opposition 
were in favour of his remaining — the nobles to 



i6o END OF THE FRONDE [chap, xvm 

whom he offered preferment, and the courtiers who 
found it to their interest to keep in with him. His 
own Cabinet detested him, and it was the fashion in 
France to abuse him ; all the same, opinion was 
divided as to whether it would be wise altogether 
to expel him. 

The Parlement made one last effort to raise 
difficulties about signing the peace should the 
Minister remain, but they had to give in. 

Peace was signed on March ii, and the court 
returned to Paris. Thus ended this extraordinary- 
campaign, almost without parallel in history. A 
king in exile in his own country, besieging his 
own capital. The royal princes in the ranks of the 
besieged and besiegers. People famished in the 
streets of Paris, and the royal family, living in 
squalor and misery in their own country residence. 
And all this was practically the work of Mazarin ; 
the Fronde would never have existed but for him. 

This insurrection will go down to posterity 
coupled with the name of the all-powerful Italian 
Cardinal, who, while apparently in submission to 
the King his master, in reality sat side by side with 
Anne of Austria on the throne of France. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THE AFFAIR OF THE MARQUIS DE JARZt 

rHE Due d'Orleans was the first to return 
to Paris. Anne waited a few days at St. 
Germain, and received Madame de Longueville 
with great coldness when that lady had the effrontery 
to come from Paris to visit her, and when the 
Court did return to the Palais Royal things had 
not greatly improved. 

It is true that the King was warmly welcomed, 
for in those days his presence in their midst had a 
great charm for the Parisians. He was useful to 
them, and added to the prestige of the capital. 
Through all the wars and seditions, their one real 
fear was to lose their Monarch, consequently the 
frondeurs had dreaded nothing so much as his 
return, knowing the hold he had over the hearts of 
the people. 

The country at large was in a state of ferment, 
and the finances in a critical condition in the 
provinces, even the King's household was in a 
pitiable state. The palace was badly kept and the 
table very poor, the question of the salaries of the 
subordinates was still causing- areat discord, and 
the gentlemen of the court were sending away 

I6i 21 



i62 POVERTY AT COURT [chap, xix 

their pages, not having sufficient means to keep 
them. The army was unpaid, and the crown jewels 
had been pawned. In fact, affairs were desperate, 
and the monarchy, once so great and opulent, 
whose King and court had been the admiration of 
all Europe, was in these few short months reduced 
to penury. When Charles I., King of England, 
though still a fugitive, arrived in France, he was 
received with royal honours, but the entertainment 
which Louis gave to welcome him was meagre in 
the extreme. It was stately by reason of the royal 
persons assembled at the board, but it could hardly 
be dignified by the name of a banquet. 

The English court was lodged at St. Germain, 
and judging by the accounts lately given of that 
palace, the guests were not in the lap of luxury. 
Few French nobles visited them, and it is not sur- 
prising that the English lords who had followed the 
fortunes of their Prince, complained bitterly of their 
solitude and discomfort. 

The Due de Vendome now thought fit to make 
up his quarrel with the Cardinal, and as a token of 
his goodwill proposed a marriage between his son, 
the Due de Mercoeur, and the eldest of the Mancini 
girls.^ 

Mazarin neither accepted nor refused. It was an 
alliance to his advantage, and with the wealth he 
could give was by no means a bad one for the 
Duke ; but the Cardinal never allowed his hand to 

^ Bazin de Raucon, Histoire de France sous le Ministere de 
Mazarin. 



i649] MADEMOISELLE DE CHEVREUSE 163 

be forced, or accepted too eagerly what might be 
only a bait. 

His nieces were growing in beauty and charm day 
by day, which did not, however, prevent their being 
satirised in the many verses published at the time. 

Anne was now settled in Paris with her children ; 
the King was growing fast, and her second boy had 
been taken away from his nurses, and given a house- 
hold of his own, with his full title of Monsieur. 

As soon as the Duchesse de Chevreuse, who was 
in Brussels, heard of the general peace, she hastened 
to Paris and joined her husband and daughter. She 
had received a sort of pardon, and a promise from 
the Cardinal that she might present herself at court ; 
but Mazarin had no intention of letting her down 
too gently, and he advised Anne to refuse the 
request of the Due de Chevreuse, that his wife 
might remain there permanently. 

The Queen was of the same opinion, and replied 
that she could not risk allowing a woman who had not 
been true to her, to reside in a city so full of cabals 
and enemies, unless she showed absolute submission. 

The old Duke, who was 84 years of age, and 
very deaf, answered that he would guarantee the 
good conduct of his wife, but the Queen responded 
that he never had, and never would have, any power 
whatever to restrain her. 

Mademoiselle de Chevreuse had grown very 
pretty, with eyes which alone ensured her having 
many conquests. She had good features, but was 
rather too sallow and thin for real beauty. With 



i64 COLD RECEPTION [chap, xix 

such a mother, it is hardly surprising to hear that 
she was frivolous in the extreme. She was 
supremely silly, often bordering on the ridiculous. 
She treated her lovers as if they were so much 
discarded finery ; but her position was an advan- 
tageous one, and she did not lack suitors. As she 
was free to come or go from France, she had long 
ago returned to join her father.^ 

When Madame de Chevreuse arrived the court 
was at Compiegne, and it was there she paid her 
first visit to the Queen. She had been ill, and was 
pale and dejected, and quite ready to take up the 
submissive part dictated to her ; weary of exile, 
she was glad to be received back on any terms. 

Anne had always been in the habit of embracing 
her favourite, she as a rule never kissed any of her 
ladies, save the Duchesse d'Orleans and Mademoi- 
selle, who were her relatives, but this time she 
greeted the repentant Duchess with no such mark 
of affection. She listened silently to Madame de 
Chevreuse's promises of amendment, with a cold 
manner, very different from the old days. 

The Duchess then bowed to the King, said a few 
words to the Minister, and retired. 

As soon as she had left the audience chamber 
the Queen exclaimed, 

*• Why, that is not Madame de Chevreuse ! She 
is an absolutely different person, and as changed as 
I am in my feelings towards her." 

Whether she alluded to her loss of beauty or her 

' Memoires de Retz. 



i6so] MARQUIS DE JARZE 165 

extreme humility remained a doubt to her hearers. 
Probably a little of both. 

The Queen of Poland, at the end of her year of 
widowhood, married her brother-in-law, who was 
heir to the throne. As they were within the 
prohibited degree, it was necessary to get a dis- 
pensation, which was easily done. In spite of the 
Queen's want of youth, the marriage was approved 
of in Poland, and the fair Marie wrote to her friends 
at the French court, and told them she had been 
carried in triumph on a silver car to the church, 
and that she was extremely pleased with her new 
husband. 

Amongst the followers of the Cardinal was the 
Marquis de Jarze, or Jarsai,^ who was witty and 
amusing, but had a very free tongue, and spared 
no one in his trenchant remarks." 

He used to play the Italian game o{ bauchette or 
bowls with Mazarin, and greatly ingratiated himself 
with the Cardinal, not only by being a pleasant 
companion, but from his readiness to plunge into 
every dispute, and then turn the affair into ridicule. 

A feud was rag^inp; between the Due de Beaufort 
and his adherents and a party of courtiers, of whom 
Jarze was one. 

On one occasion these gentlemen were going to 
Paris for some races while the court was out of 
town, and when they went to make their obeisance 
to the Queen before leaving, ]a.rz6, who was not 

' Memoires de Brienfie. 
' Memoires de Montjrlat. 




i66 MEETING IN THE GARDENS [chap, xix 

the wisest of men, turned smilingly to her, and said 
that they intended to hold their own against the 
other faction. 

" For God's sake, gentlemen," replied the Queen^ 
" I beg of you all to be prudent, and commit no 
rash actions." 

The general place of rendezvous and amusement 
in Paris, especially during the races, was at the 
Jardin Renard. Jarzd was in the habit of holding 
orgies there, when he would drink to the health 
of Mazarin. 

One afternoon during their stay, he and his 
comrades met in the famous gardens the Due de 
Beaufort, accompanied by the Due de Retz and 
others. Possibly these gentlemen did not care to 
encounter the Mazarins, for they turned into 
another alley, and Jarz6 and his friends at once 
began to taunt them, crying aloud that he and his 
had remained masters of the field, as the Frondeurs 
dared not face the Mazarins. Thinking it a great 
joke, Jarze repeated the story in the salons among 
the ladies, doubtless with amplifications, and it was 
at once repeated to the Due de Beaufort. In the 
evening they returned to sup on the terrace at the 
Jardin Renard. 

While so engaged the Duke appeared with a 
large company fully armed. The supper party 
saw at once that the evening was not likely to 
go off peacefully, but thought it best to pay no 
attention, and continued their repast ; but De 
Beaufort had no intention of leaving them alone, 



i65o] DUC DE BEAUFORT'S CONDUCT 167 

and came up to the table. Jarze and Ruvigny 
rose, and bowed respectfully. 

"You sup early, gentlemen," said the Duke, and 
seizing the corner of the cloth he dragged it rudely 
off the table, the dishes falling on the ground, and 
the company being bespattered with the sauces and 
wines. 

In a moment the place was in an uproar, the 
pages set upon Jarze, and maltreated him, and the 
Due de Candale, cousin of De Beaufort, drew his 
sword and attacked the others ; such riots, often 
terminating in bloodshed, were, however, usual 
enough, and after a while the combatants desisted 
and retired. 

The Queen was much annoyed when she heard 
of the encounter, as it was entirely a matter of 
party spirit, showing the ill-feeling that still con- 
tinued. Nothing daunted, Jarze determined to keep 
in the good graces of the Minister, and got into 
the habit of coming constantly to visit the Queen 
of an evening, and by adroit flattery and exag- 
gerated devotion tried to prove to her that his 
fidelity passed even the bounds of that which is 
expected between a sovereign and a subject.^ 

Anne was always amused by him, and used to 
turn his attentions into ridicule ; but the scandal- 
mongers, always ready with eyes and ears open, 
began to make much of this folly. The fact was, 
Jarze was playing a double part ; he was literally 
a spy in the palace, and used to retail all that 

^ Mimoires de Motteville, vol. i. 



i68 MAZARIN'S JEALOUSY [chap, xix 

was said in private to the Prince de Conde, deter- 
mined to belong to both parties, and keep in with 
the one which served him best. 

Madame de Beauvais, the first bed-chamber 
woman, who was neither young nor beautiful, had 
fallen in love with Jarzd, and while making every 
use of this circumstance to increase his intimacy 
with Anne, he managed to throw dust in the eyes 
of the enamoured waiting-woman as well, and 
continued to show the Queen by every means in 
his power the stifled flame which consumed his 
heart, and the intense adoration for her person 
which was driving him mad. 

Meanwhile all these rumours had been brought 
to the ears of the Cardinal, who began to suffer 
from a pretty acute attack of jealousy, almost the 
first intimation we have had that Mazarin was 
not cold-blooded after all, and could ill brook a 
rival. Anyway, it caused him great irritation, and 
he wrote in his copious notes these words, *' Garse 
est isy, Le Chasser," a laconic statement, but a 
proof of his strong objection to the man.^ 

The claims of Jarze were ridiculous ; but Anne's 
vanity was flattered, and though she tried to laugh 
it off she was a good deal pleased, and showed it. 

Upon which Mazarin determined that Jarze 
should be promptly ruined. First he declared that 
he had taken a great dislike to Madame de 
Beauvais, and said she must be sent away from 
court. Anne remonstrated, and answered that she 
* No, 12, Fonds Balme^ p. 24. 



1650] WAITING WOMAN DISMISSED 169 

did not keep her for the beauty of her person, or 
her mind, but she had very clever fingers, and 
excelled in the duties required of her. 

" My women tell me all sorts of nonsense," she 
pleaded. " All this folly about Catau [her nick-name 
for Jarz^] goes in at one ear and out at the other, 
I don't really remember the half of it. She is, 
I assure you, quite innocent of the part attributed 
to her ; why should I be put to the annoyance of 
sending her away ? " 

But the pleadings were in vain. Mazarin was 
adamant, and as usual Anne had to give way. 
Next morning, before setting out upon one of her 
usual visits to a convent, she sent for her house 
steward, and told him to give Madame de Beauvais 
notice to leave the palace, with her husband and 
children, and hand over the keys to him. 

When he appeared before the waiting-woman 
with this news she was aghast. She had just 
been dressing the Queen, who had treated her 
as usual, and was quite unprepared for dismissal ; 
she resisted for some time, but was at last 
advised by her friends to give in quietly.^ 

Though Jarze knew by the disgrace meted out 
to his friend what was in store for himself, he went 
about with an air of indifference, bragging as 
usual. 

Three days after Madame de Beauvais had been 
sent away, the Queen, who was perfectly furious 

* Madame de Beaufort returned to office a year after. Mimoires 
de Montghit^ Coll. Petitot^ p, 203. 

22 



170 ANNE INSULTS JARZE [chap, xix 

at what had happened, returning to her rooms 
through the long gallery, came upon Jarze dressed 
and powdered, and looking his best, forming one 
of the line of bowing courtiers through which she 
had to pass ; and then, as was the custom, they 
formed behind her, and followed her to the " Salon 
des Miroirs," where she did her hair. 

Anne beckoned him towards her, and in a clear 
voice before them all said distinctly, 

" Really, Monsieur Jarze, you are too ridiculous. 
They tell me that you play the lover ! You are a 
fine gallant indeed ! You fill me with pity, for you 
should be sent to a lunatic asylum. However, I 
suppose one must not be hard on you, for you 
inherit this folly, I believe your grandfather was 
expelled from court, for making love to Marie de' 
Medici." ^ 

Poor Jarze was much taken aback at these 
mocking and bitter words, his self-conceit had 
received a severe blow, and he left the room pale 
and stammering. The news of his disgrace flew 
round like wild-fire, and the Queen by no means 
escaped censure. It was thought that she had 
behaved very badly to one she had taken up and 
flattered, and that his misguided affection should 
have been treated with silent contempt, not openly 
flouted, which did not add to the dignity of the 
Crown. 

The consequences of this incident were graver 
than might have been imagined. The Prince de 

^ Aubeny and Chapel, Journal inidit de Dubusson. 



I6SO] CONDfe TAKES HIS PART 171 

Conde took Jarz^'s part, and carried him off to 
his country place. He then announced to all who 
would listen that Jarze had acted in his interests all 
along, while apparently a follower of the Cardinal. 
He twitted the Queen with her supposed love 
affairs, to which she retorted that she had openly 
expressed her ignorance of Jarze's absurd preten- 
sions. But all such remarks on her part did but 
provoke a smile, the partisans on the side of the 
Princes looked on with joy, seeing a possible 
defeat for the Minister, and the relations between 
the latter and the Princes became more strained 
than ever. 



CHAPTER XX 

DISAFFECTION AT COURT 

THE King had not yet attended a council, and 
it was arranged that it should take place 
without loss of time, the Minister thinking it might 
bring the seditious party to reason. He was still 
in full power, all foreign affairs in his hands ; but 
all the same he was very nervous as to his reception 
by the people, and there were those who said that 
if they gave him no special greeting he was ruined. 
But in such matters Mazarin was not wanting in 
courage and decision ; if he could make himself 
feared, he could also make himself beloved. When 
the crowds gathered round the King's carriage with 
every sign of rejoicing, as if the rebellion had been 
but an evil dream, there were many scowling faces 
turned towards the Minister, but at the sight of 
that commanding presence and eagle eye the mal- 
contents dared not openly show their hatred of him. 
Mazarin stood by the door of the coach, looking 
calmly on the multitude, and the low murmur of 
discontent died away, the power of the man was 
such that the very sight of him disarmed his foes. 
If it was a demonstration in favour of the King, 

it soon became one in favour of the Minister. The 

172 



,6so] THE FICKLE PARISIANS 173 

fickle crowd began to pass remarks on his personal 
beauty, and some went so far as to offer him their 
hands. Soon they were evoking blessings on his 
head for having brought them back their King, 
and declaring that they had been mistaken, and the 
Cardinal was an honest man after all. Anne was 
in raptures, she had not ventured to hope for such 
a reception for her beloved Mazarin. When the 
ceremony was over they met with joy, congratu- 
lating each other, for both had greatly dreaded 
what this day might bring about. 

She spent the evening with her ladies, holding 
forth to them on all the flattering things the washer- 
women, sellers of old clothes, and women of the 
Halles had shouted from among the crowd in praise 
of the Cardinal. 

When the King, a few days later, went in state 
to the Church of the Jesuits, beautifully dressed, and 
looking his best, that he might give pleasure to his 
subjects, Mazarin, emboldened by his late successes, 
went out an hour before Louis, attended only by a 
couple of bishops, and drove through the town to 
await his Majesty's arrival at the church. All fears 
on his account were now at an end, and with a 
smiling countenance he held the reins of govern- 
ment more firmly than ever. 

Though Madame de Longueville was received 
on the same terms as before, she never left off her 
intrigues, and had ceased to be 2, persona grata with 
the court. This high-born lady, who had earned a 
reputation of extreme propriety, had lately changed 



174 THE TABOURET [chap, xx 

her tactics, and thought her talents best bestowed on 
politics. She was naturally clever, besides possess- 
ing the feminine gift of a languorous beauty which 
charmed all who came in contact with her ; but from 
having been the heroine of a party, she was in the 
end doomed to sink into being a mere adventuress,^ 

At this period she was still occupied in fermenting 
quarrels among the conflicting parties, she made the 
proposed marriage of the Due de Mercceur with 
Mademoiselle Mancini a pretext to inflame the 
princes further against Mazarin. 

The Due de Vendome, who had no wish to ally 
himself with the Cardinal unless he saw favour and 
preferment likely to arise from it, now began to 
hold back, and told Mazarin coolly that he did not 
see how he could even think of such a thing, so 
once more the affairs remained in abeyance. His 
niece was still so young that the Cardinal felt there 
was no real hurry, and was indifferent at the delay. 

Madame de Longueville, however, found plenty 
of things with which to occupy her mischievous 
spirit ; she now raised a fresh storm by a request 
that the Princesse de Marsillac should have a 
tabouret, and a right of entrance for her carriage 
into the Louvre.^ The wife of the Prince de 

* Memoires de Retz. 

^ This question of the tabourets, which put the whole court into a 
ferment of excitement, was simply neither more nor less than that of 
elevating to the rank of princesses those who hitherto had not had 
the right to sit in the Queen's presence. This privilege had only 
been granted to the wives of princes of the blood, of royal bastards 
of France, and of the princes of Lorraine and Savoy. — Memoires de 
Motteville, vol. iii. 



1650] REVOLT OF THE NOBLES 175 

Marsillac had no claim whatever to such rank. The 
Prince was not of royal lineage, it was but a title 
he bore as son of the Due de la Rochefoucauld, 
who was still alive. There had, however, no doubt 
been instances when the privilege had been granted. 

Madame de Senace, for instance, who claimed 
descent for her children from the house of Foix, 
had succeeded in obtaining a tabouret for her 
daughter, the Comtesse de Fleix ; this honour, 
which elevated her above the heads of many who 
considered her of inferior rank to themselves, 
opened up the question, and there was much 
angry discussion about it, many putting in a better 
claim than hers. 

Madame de Lono-ueville also had a friend, 
Madame de Pons, who pretended to be descended 
from the family d'Albret, and who demanded a 
tabouret on the plea of her exalted ancestors. 
Backed up by the Abbe de la Riviere, both these 
ladies had succeeded in obtaining the coveted 
dignity. 

The Queen had granted these requests most 
unwillingly, but hoped thereby to cement the peace 
more firmly ; Mazarin, too, was glad to see an 
enemy or two the less among the ranks of the court 
beauties. 

But the dukes and marshals of France rose up 
with one accord, and, while not complaining of the 
honour granted, demanded a similar treatment for 
their wives and children. As the Queen detested 
both Madame de Longrueville and Madame de Pons, 



176 THE QUEEN IN DIFFICULTIES [chap, xx 

and was indifferent to Madame de Marsillac, 
she felt free from any personal influence in the 
matter, and listened to the complaints of the 
gentlemen, only feeling disappointed that, far from 
bringing peace, her unfortunate appointments were 
causing a great deal of discord. When they were 
gone she turned to the Chevalier de Jars and said 
peevishly that people were always crying out about 
something or other, but that this little storm would 
subside as others had done. Therein she was 
mistaken. An assembly of the nobles was formed 
sufficiently powerful to annul the new tabourets, and 
many joined it ; they went in a large body to see 
the Queen, who received them in her private 
apartments. 

When she saw this gathering, many of whom 
were personal friends of her own, she knew not 
what to say, and the suppliants began to think, 
from her hesitation, that she would revoke her 
order — which delighted all the mischievous spirits. 

But the matter was not going to be allowed to 
drop so easily. Next day the disaffected nobles met 
again, to think of some new method, and eight of 
their number went to visit the Due d' Orleans to try 
to enlist his sympathies on their behalf Among 
these were members of some of the highest families 
in France. 

The Duke gave them little satisfaction, and said 
he could do nothing, and that it was the work of 
the Queen and the Prince de Conde. They then 
went to visit this latter prince, who received them 



I650] ANNE SENDS FOR BISHOPS 177 

very coldly, and said it was arranged entirely between 
the Queen and the Due d'Orleans, 

They were thus bandied about from one to the 
other. 

The absurdity of the whole proceeding strikes 
one very forcibly nowadays, but it really was a 
burning question then. The elevation of Madame 
de Pons was more than they could bear, and the 
princes of the blood were willing to join with 
the nobles, if by so doing they could prevent that 
audacious lady at any rate from holding such 
undeserved honours. 

But the ladies in question had no idea of giving 
back that, which they had managed to obtain. The 
husband of the one, and M. de Moissens, the 
brother-in-law of the other, made every effort to 
defend their rights. 

The assembly of aggrieved nobles went once 
more to the Queen, and complained bitterly of the 
misdirected honours which she had dealt out. 
Another source of annoyance to them was that 
two other ladies. Mademoiselle de Montbazon and 
Madame de la Tremouille, had been granted 
tabourets. Even the grandeur of the House of 
Rohan, of which Mademoiselle de Montbazon was 
a member, gave her no real right to the distinction, 
while in the case of Madame de la Tremouille 
it had been promised to her daughters as well. 

Anne in despair sent to her bishops to settle 
this difficult matter for her, and they harangued 
the deputation, advising them to be satisfied with 

33 



178 Mdlle. DE MONTBAZON [chap, xx 

the Queen's promises, to do as far as possible 
what they required, and to obey her orders with 
submission. 

This did not satisfy the nobility at all ; the dukes 
of France now joined their numbers, and the 
Queen was beginning to become extremely uneasy 
as to how it all would end. The tabouret would 
cease to be a privilege if every one had a right 
to it, and the granting of it was becoming a farce. 

In the end, however, she had to give way. She 
revoked the privilege she had granted to Madame 
de Marsillac and Madame de Pons, and this in 
itself was a humiliating thing for her to do ; but 
she begged to retain that given to the Comtesse 
de Fleix, as not only was she by birth of the royal 
house of Foix, but it was also given in consideration 
of her mother's services. 

More deputations and more harangues took place, 
and the Queen was formally requested to ratify her 
promises in writing. When this at last had been 
obtained the nobles humbly thanked her Majesty for 
her kind reconsideration (which had been entirely 
brought about by their bullying) ; they also ex- 
pressed their thanks to the clergy, and to the 
Minister, at whose house most of the meetings 
had been held. 

The only point that remained unsettled was the 
tabouret of Mademoiselle de Montbazon, and 
Madame de Longueville, who hated her, was in- 
sistent that she should be deprived of it. It was a 
difficult matter to settle, for the daughters of the 



i6so] THE HOUSE OF ROHAN 179 

House of Rohan had had that honour since the 
days of Henri IV. 

The Princesse de Guemenee on her marriage 
with the eldest son of the Due de Montbazon, 
who, as well as herself, was of the House of Rohan, 
had continued to hold her tabouret, though she was 
neither a royal princess nor a duchess. This 
prerogative had been granted by Marie de' Medici, 
who had never given distinctions lightly. 

The Princess chose to consider that her sister- 
in-law. Mademoiselle de Montbazon, being equally a 
Rohan through her father, had the same right also, 
and warmly espoused her cause. The Princesse de 
Guemenee was a very great lady both by birth 
and position, and when she announced that if the 
request was not granted she would share her 
tabouret with her sister-in-law, it was felt that 
matters had indeed become very involved. The 
Queen was obliged to descend to subterfuge, and 
to promise the Princess secretly that if she would 
give in now about Mademoiselle de Montbazon, 
her own dauofhter should hold the coveted honour 
in days to come. So ended this extraordinary 
quarrel, which was as insignificant as it was 
foolish, and which certainly concluded in a manner 
reflecting no credit on any one concerned. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE YOUNG FRONDE RESIGNATION OF MAZARIN 

NEW difficulties beset the Government from 
the dictatorial demeanour of the Prince 
de Conde, who, presuming on his services in the 
hour of peril, imagined that he might tyrannise 
over the Regent and her Minister. 

He treated Mazarin and even Anne with ridicule, 
and under the influence of his intriguing sister, 
Madame de Longueville, formed a powerful faction 
among the disaffected nobles, and the party was 
distinguished by the name of the " young Fronde." 

As the Duchesse de Chevreuse was very 
antagonistic to Conde, Mazarin thought fit what 
year to take her into his counsels. 

One day in January, 1650, when the court as usual 

was assembled in the great gallery, the Cardinal 

drew Madame de Chevreuse into the embrasure 

of one of the windows, and said in his suavest 

manner, " I know you have many devoted friends, 

is it not possible to make them love us ? If 

we could make use of some of them we might do 

great things. M. de Beaufort is at the service 

of Madame de Montbazon ; she is devoted to 

Vigneul, — cannot we all work together, instead of 

180 



i6so] KING AND QUEEN AT ROUEN i8i 

against each other?" For one moment the fair 
intrigante thought she was about to be plunged 
into what she loved best, a political and secret 
intrigue ; but happening to look up, she intercepted 
a glance between the Cardinal and the Queen, 
and she knew that the request for her assistance 
had been concerted between them. 

" I quite understand your Eminence," she replied 
coldly, "and I will answer for both these men"; 
but Mazarin knew he had failed this time^ — at least 
as far as her assistance could be relied on. With 
a bold stroke of authority he secretly effected 
an understanding with the Cardinal de Retz, the 
Due de Beaufort, and other leaders of the original 
Fronde ; and with their support, the Prince de Cond^, 
the Prince de Conti, his brother, and the old Due 
de Longueville, his brother-in-law, were all arrested 
and imprisoned at Vincennes. 

The Cardinal next advised the Queen to go to 
Rouen, and work for the removal of the Duchesse 
de Longueville from Dieppe. 

This journey was therefore carried out, and the 
King and Queen were received at Rouen with 
every mark of joy.^ Anne sent at once an order 
to Dieppe for Madame de Longueville to join 
her old husband, who had been removed from 
Vincennes to Coulommiers, but this daring lady 
had no intention of giving up her position without 
a struggle. She feigned illness, and answered that 

* Manoires dc Retz. 

* Meinoires de Montglat. 



1 82 Mme. DE LONGUEVILLE ESCAPES [chap, xxi 

she would obey the Queen's bequest when it was 
possible. 

But this subterfuge did not avail her, and when 
she saw the royal troops under La Plessis-Belliere 
approach Dieppe she tried to win over the governor 
of that town to her side. She knew that could 
she succeed in holding Normandy, of which her 
husband had been governor, she would be ren- 
dering the greatest service to the royal princes. 

She attempted to inflame the minds of the people 
against Mazarin, and told them how gloriously they 
would be serving their King if they would only 
open the gates to receive him, provided the hated 
Minister should be for ever excluded. The 
peace-loving inhabitants replied that they always 
did and always would serve their King, but they 
could not dictate to him who should be his adviser. 
At this answer Madame de Longueville was in 
despair, for failing support from within, and menaced 
by enemies without, she saw that her cause was 
lost. 

She therefore determined on instant flight ; she 
left the castle where she resided by a little postern 
door, which led outside the walls, followed by her 
women, and a few gentlemen of her suite who 
had courageously cast in their lot with hers. 

Silently through the night she walked more than 
two miles to a small village on the coast, where 
they obtained a fishing-smack. 

The weather was very boisterous, a gale having 
arisen, and the sailors were much against her 



i65o] TEMPEST PREVENTS SAILING 183 

starting, though all she requested of them was to 
put out to sea so as to get on board a large vessel 
in the offing. 

But the wind being strong and the high tide 
coming in with such force that it was impossible 
to beach the little boat, she insisted on the men 
carrying her through the surf. As they were doing 
this a huge wave overwhelmed them, nearly sweep- 
ing them all out to sea, and they had the 
greatest difficulty in getting back with their 
burden to land. 

As soon as Madame de Longueville had been 
brought round — for she had been rendered nearly 
unconscious — she wanted, in spite of the increasing 
tempest, to make the effort again ; but this time 
none of the sailors would lend their aid, and she 
had to give up her intention. 

Mounting a horse they procured, she rode pillion 
through the night to the house of a gentleman of 
her acquaintance who was willing to receive and 
befriend her. Being still bent on making her 
escape by water when the weather permitted, she 
sent a messenger to the ship, only to find out that 
the captain had been already bought by the 
Cardinal, and had she succeeded in getting on board 
she would have been arrested at once. 

Nothing daunted, she sent to Havre and got the 
captain of a large trading-vessel to agree to give 
her a passage under a feigned name. She wished 
to pass as a nobleman who had fought a duel, and 
who was bound to make good his escape ; by this 



i84 MAZARIN'S ENEMIES [chap, xxi 

means, and after many hardships, she eventually- 
reached Flanders in safety.^ 

This intriguing woman had been a thorn in the 
flesh to the Queen and the Cardinal for many a day, 
and they hailed the news of her departure into exile 
with satisfaction. The enemies of Mazarin in- 
variably met the same fate, their resistance was 
ineffectual when the all-powerful Minister was 
determined on their disgrace. 

Though Madame de Longueville continued from 
afar to stir up rebellion, and sought to obtain an 
alliance with Spain inimical to the interests of 
France, all her machinations were of no avail as 
long as her enemy remained in office. 

If hitherto Mazarin had triumphed, the net 
was closing round him also. It was said he could 
never turn his back without looking often behind 
him, and that his movements were impeded on every 
side." The Due d'Orleans now openly showed 
his hand. He came one evening early in 165 1 to 
the Palais Royal, and with a courage he rarely 
displayed when dealing with the Cardinal, attacked 
him on all the points he had to find fault with. 
The Cardinal retorted that the frondeurs were 
real Cromwellians, and wanted to do in France 
what they had been doing in England. The 
Duke retorted that they were men of honour com- 
pared with the other party, and servants of the 



^ Memoires de Motteville. 

^ Bazin la Raucon, Hlstoire de France, soks le Mitiistlre de 
Mazarin. 



1651] HE RESIGNS CHARGE OF KING 185 

King and the Crown. Mazarin attempting to argue, 
the Due d'Orleans forced him to be silent, and, 
declaring that he had poisoned the young King's 
mind, refused even to remain in the same room 
with him.^ 

The following morning Mazarin, greatly incensed, 
handed over the charge of the King to the Marechal 
de Villeroy. 

The Due d'Orleans now commanded the guards 
at the gates to take no orders but his own, and 
sent the coadjutor to announce to the Parlement 
that he declared himself in open opposition to the 
Minister. 

This was the cause of a violent move on the part 
of the members. Some wanted to arrest the 
Cardinal, others to put him to death, and cries of 
" Long live the King ! Down with Mazarin ! " filled 
the air. 

While this was going on, the Queen, on her side, 
was working to dissolve the Assembly unless they 
would listen to her wishes. She received the 
deputies, whom she had ordered to appear before 
her, in her bed, in the cap and night-clothes of 
a sick person. The Minister stood beside the 
royal couch with the Keeper of the Seals at his 
side. 

The Queen spoke for a quarter of an hour 

with good sense and judgment. She regretted 

the loss of the Due d'Orleans' friendship, but 

all her efforts were in vain. The following day 

• This is confirmed by Tolon de Joly, Motteville, and others. 

24 



i86 HIS FAREWELL TO ANNE [chap, xxi 

the deputies again implored the Queen to give 
way and satisfy the wishes of her people, while 
the streets were filled with cries of " Let the 
Cardinal perish ; send him away. We will not 
have Mazarin." 

The Cardinal now thought it would be advisable 
to retire, at any rate for a short period, and he 
sought a private interview with Anne to tell 
her so. 

She shed many tears, and tried to prevent his 
carrying out this project. 

" I know we have failed, though you have tried 
to be master of everything in my name," she cried ; 
"but our enemies are too many for us. But is it 
wise to leave altogether ? And oh, what shall I do 
without you ? " 

With much tenderness Mazarin tried to cheer 
her. 

*' Queen of my heart," he said, "I do not 
willingly leave you, but I do think that at this 
crisis it is for the King's interest that I should 
resign. My absence need not be for ever, nor 
do I see what should prevent your following me, 
only let us be careful, and avoid giving rise to any 
suspicions as to my movements." 

Sadly the Queen listened to his arguments, and 
agreed to his scheme. Perhaps she felt a soreness 
at his deserting her, and his proposal of a secret 
escape might have appeared a craven one. Mazarin 
was certainly not altogether free from cowardice, 
but the wily Italian by no means considered him- 



i6sr] HE DECIDES TO LEAVE FRANCE 187 

self beaten, his retreat was part of the policy he 
had mapped out for himself. He had every inten- 
tion of returning at a suitable moment, and Anne 
could follow out his orders and obey his instructions 
from his place of exile, just as well as she had ever 
done. His fertile brain was full of schemes for 
future aggrandisement and increased power. How- 
ever, for the moment — but for the moment only — he 
had to admit that he was defeated, and he knew 
the value of the French proverb, " Reculer pour 
mieux sauter ! " 



CHAPTER XXII 



MAZARIN IN EXILE 



ON February 6, 1651, Mazarin attended the 
Queen's reception, and stood conversing 
with her for some time as was his wont. It was 
remarked that she looked pale, otherwise she 
appeared in her usual spirits, but the Queen and 
the Cardinal both knew that this casual conversa- 
tion was in reality their last farewell. Anne was 
very calm, and gave no outward sign, although 
sorrow, anger, pity, and love must have mingled 
in her heart. She bade her Minister a careless 
good-night, and he left her side to join the throng 
of courtiers. His departure from the room made 
no stir ; he sauntered out at the usual hour, talking 
and laughing on the way to his own apartments. 
All his preparations had been already made. He 
slipped on a red overcoat, took a plumed hat, 
and quietly left the Palais Royal by the side door 
in the Rue de Richelieu, accompanied by two 
gentlemen.'^ His horses and servants waiting for 
him were too common a spectacle to excite notice, 

^ Omer Talon said that two hundred horses were waiting for him in 
the Rue de Richeheu. De Brienne writes that this escort was 
waiting outside Paris for him. 

188 



I65I] MAZARIN'S FLIGHT 189 

and he rode quietly off to St. Germain through the 
darkness, 

Anne covered his retreat by her calm impassive- 
ness, but when Madame de Motteville next 
morning asked her how she was, her self-control at 
last gave way. Going to her oratory, and signing 
to this lady to follow her, she locked the door, and 
falling on her knees beside the altar she exclaimed : 

"Judge for yourself as to the state I must be 
in. Is not the dismissal of my Minister evidence 
of my want of proper authority ? " 

Madame de Motteville, who, though not aware 
of his departure, believed it to be imminent, tried 
to console her mistress by pointing out that a 
change of ministry, and the appointment of a man 
who was in no way connected with the opposing 
factions, might tend to bring back her failing power. 

" You are right," replied Anne sadly, " but God 
knows if I can find a disinterested man to serve me 
faithfully. I pray that the King at least may not 
suffer from any faults of the Cardinal, for I am well 
aware that he has faults ; but he conducted affairs 
gloriously as long as he was left alone, and the first 
five years of my regency were very happy ones." 
She sank into a reverie after these words, and 
Madame de Motteville retired quietly, leaving her 
to seek consolation in prayer. 

All through that day Anne bravely received visitors 
and transacted business as if nothing had happened, 
but when evening came she said to the one lady 
she had taken into her confidence, 



I90 EXCITEMENT IN PARIS [chap, xxii 

*' I wish it was always night — not that I can 
sleep, but at least I can have solitude and 
silence." 

Poor lonely deserted Queen ! Surely in the still- 
ness of the great empty palace at St. Germain, 
Mazarin, occupied as was his mind with many 
schemes, was not so heartless as to forget the 
woman who had sacrificed so much for him. 

When it was known in Paris that the Minister 
had left, the greatest excitement prevailed. In the 
Parlement they presented a vote of thanks to the 
Queen for having sent him away, but no one 
individual cared to commit himself on the subject. 
A wholesome fear of the great Cardinal still reigned ; 
who could say whether he had really gone for 
good? 

His departure seemed to have created a perfect 
panic ; affairs were in chaos. When it was known 
that Anne designed to follow him, the leaders of 
the Fronde determined to frustrate this, and sur- 
rounded the palace with troops. It ended in the 
King and Queen-Regent being virtually prisoners 
in their own palace. 

For a whole month Anne was unable to leave 
the Palais Royal. Every door was guarded, no 
one either on foot or in a carriage could go in 
or out without being searched, and every woman 
was unmasked to make certain she was not the 
Queen. 

Anne tried to make light of the situation, and 
used to say laughingly her prison was charming, 



i6si] DE CHAUVIGNY HOLDS OFFICE 191 

being her own house, but in her heart she felt the 
humiliation most keenly. When Mazarin heard to 
what straits his beloved mistress was subjected he 
determined to leave Havre, to which place he had 
gone in the hope of bringing it over altogether to 
his interests, and to proceed to Picardy, where he 
could cross the frontier, which might cause the 
wrath against him to subside. 

He did not flee as an escaped criminal when once 
his exit from Paris was assured, but as a grand 
seigneur with a retinue of a hundred horses and 
men ; he was unmolested most of the way, only at 
Abbeville they refused to let him pass through 
their town. From there he wrote a formal letter 
to the Queen, which was intended to be read 
publicly, sending in his resignation. 

De Chauvigny was received at court as the future 
Minister, to the great disgust of Chateauneuf, who 
had expected to hold office himself ; but the Queen 
had the greatest dislike to him, while De Chauvigny 
had always taken her part. She was, however, 
forced to write a document to be laid before the 
Senate, stating that the King and Queen-Regent, 
assisted by the Due d'Orleans, the princes, the 
dukes, and peers of the kingdom, with the officers 
of the Crown, wished to state the resolution they 
had taken that Cardinal Mazarin should be for ever 
exiled from France. 

Mazarin, when he found that it was useless for 
the present to think of returning, retired to Briihl, 
a little town in the electorate of Cologne, determined 



192 MAZARIN PULLS THE STRINGS [chap, xxii 

to take no part in the storm that was raging in 
the country of his adoption. 

But though he nominally had retired from the 
government, he was carrying on a most animated 
correspondence with the Queen, and left but little 
to her guidance. Even Madame de Motteville, 
who would not admit any friendship — still less 
affection — between Anne and the Cardinal, had to 
admit that, though at a distance, his influence was 
as great as ever, and that when the dismissal of 
Chateauneuf from his office of Keeper of the Seals 
raised a perfect ferment " the Queen remained a 
long time without giving an answer because she 
was waiting for advice from Cardinal Mazarin." 
He still pulled the strings from behind the scenes, 
and not one move escaped him. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

THE cardinal's CYPHER LETTERS 

SOME letters written by Mazarin to the Queen 
at this period perhaps throw more light on 
their intimate relations than any other documents. 
They were originally written, more or less, in 
cypher ; in 1836 they were collected and published 
with a key, which rendered them intelligible.^ 

Old letters, though interesting and curious, are 
not always entertaining, nor are these any exception 
to the rule. Readers, also, are apt to be incredulous, 
so much pretended historic information having been 
foisted on the public in this form : but the authenticity 
of these letters has been placed beyond dispute. 
As to their style, it is admitted that language was 
inflated at that period, expressions were used 
that conveyed much less than they appear to mean, 
and were more exaggerated than in the present day, 
and we must therefore make allowance for the time 
at which the Cardinal wrote. There is, however, 
litde doubt that these letters to the Queen were 

1 These letters were edited with great care by M. Jules Ravernal, 
who was authorised by the " Conseil de la Societe de I'Histoire de 
France" to undertake the work, and they were published at the 
society's expense. This appears to be a sufficient guarantee for their 
authenticity. 

193 25 



194 THE CYPHER LETTERS [chap, xxm 

those of a lover, and are a lasting testimony of the 
deep attachment that existed between them. 

No mention is made of this correspondence in 
the Memoirs of the day, for the reason that the 
letters had never been made known to the world, 
being jealously hidden away by the Queen, who alone 
must have possessed the key. It was not a very 
complicated one, though the meaning was purposely 
confused and rendered involved by the use of the 
masculine and feminine pronouns, quite irrespective 
of the sex of the person alluded to, and also by a 
variety of words and symbols being employed to 
express the same things and persons.^ A portion 
of this key has been quoted below for the benefit 
of such readers as may take sufficient interest in 
cryptography to study these specimens of the 
Cardinal's letters. ^ 

There were ninety-six in all, of which the greater 
number were written to Anne. Mazarin always 
Italianised his words, but the editor thought it 
better to reproduce the letters with ordinary French 

' Sometimes the difference consisted in the size of the numerals, 
such as "33," which stood for "Paris," and "33" for "Bartet." 

Mazarin 



' Amiens 


The Queen 


L'Ami . 


Serafin . 




Sedan . 


42 




Le Ciel 


22 




48 


Zabaot . 




44 


P . 




200 


j|. . . 




26 


La Fenetre . 


The Queen's 


Confidant 




affection 


La Barque 


Espagnol The ( 


Queen's letters 


D. 


Ambition 


. Mazarin 


22 


La Mer 


i> 


38 



The King 



Le Sacre 



I6SI] FROM MAZARIN TO ANNE 195 

orthography. The cypher was probably the Cardinal's 
own invention. 

It is hardly credible that these letters, which were 
known to come from the Cardinal, should not have 
been intercepted by some one. Probably many more 
were despatched than ever reached their destination ; 
indeed, all through the correspondence he writes 
constantly of the ever-present fear that the words 
he was inditing would not reach the person for 
whom they were intended. It was in one of these 
letters that he let fall an allusion which grave colour 
to the belief that he was actually married to the 
Queen. The pamphlets of the day spoke openly 
on the subject, and called it " un manage de 
conscience." 



Gabriel 


Princesse Palatine 


Le Sang. Mme. de Chevreuse 


45 


» 


27 . 


» 


46 


» 


L'Esprit . 


»> 


F . 


» 


42 . 


Mme. de Beauvais 


L'Ange 


)> 


Bruxelles M 


me. de Longueville 


68 


Due de Mercoeur 


60 . Le P 


resident de Maison 


69 


„ 


. 


Le President Viole 


70 


i> 


61 . 


Siron 





j» 


90 . . 1 


.es ]£tats-Generaux 


La Confusion 


Le Parlement 


93 . 


Les Frondeurs 


L'Ordre 


» 


13 • 


. Conde 


89 . . 


>» 


92 . 


)> 


Silence . 


»> 


34 • 


Prince de Lyonne 


Le Muet C 


"oadjutor de Gondd 


Le Vieux 


)> 


41 . 


>i 


88 . 


>> 


La Vigne 


. Bartet 


II . 


. Trait e 


64 . . 




» 


61 . 


Siron 


Dumont . 




» 


57 . 


. de Chavigny 


Le President 




)> 


.5^/ Undying 


' love of the Queen 


33 • 




»» 


>^ 


for the Cardinal 


33 • 




Paris 






20 . 




Rome 


*Equal devot 


ion of the Cardinal 


103 . I 


VI me. 


de Chevreuse 




for the Queen 



196 EXPRESSIVE OF LOVE [chap, xxni 

The Princesse Palatine, who was always rather 
inclined to scandal, wrote years afterwards, " The 
late Queen did worse than love Mazarin, she married 
him." But the very passion displayed in these 
letters rather points to the contrary. Had Mazarin 
been Anne's husband, he would have adopted a 
different tone, breathing affection more than passion. 
He adopts the language of romance, and reiterates 
his constant and unfailing devotion. He dreams 
of the happy moment when they will be reunited, 
and is ready to brave a thousand perils if he may 
but see her again. Anne, on her side, received 
these declarations with a love that remained 
unchanged. Pride, interest, and affection bound 
her fast ; the voluminous correspondence was 
guarded by her as a sacred thing, and kept secret 
as far as it was possible. Here is one of the 
earliest of the collection. 

Letter 3 
(Par Flein gentilhomme de M. de Mesme) 

De Bruhl, May ii, 1651. 

•* My God, how happy and satisfied I should be 
if you could see my heart, or if I could write even 
one half of what I feel ! If so, you could not fail to 
be of opinion that never has there existed a friend- 
ship approaching to that which I have for you. I 
will confess I never could have believed that it 
would have been so strong as to rob me of all 
happiness, and utterly to prevent my thinking of 



I65I] AND DEVOTION OF MAZARIN 197 

anything but you. But so it is, and I cannot do 
anything e^icept what I think may be of service 
to you. I would wish also to express to you the 
hatred I feel for those mischief-makers who work 
without ceasing to cause you to forget me, and place 
obstacles in the way of our ever meeting again. In 
a word my hatred is in proportion to the love I bear 
you. But they are much mistaken if they expect 
to see in us any evil results from our prolonged 
absence from each other, and if I'Espagnol {the 
Queens letters) were to say that the mountains of 
the Guadarrama had no right to place themselves 
between two such dear friends so . . . . ^ 

" I quite believe all you write me of your 
affection, but I have a still better opinion of my 
own, for it reproaches me incessantly, because 
I do not give you sufficient proofs of its sincerity, 
and it also fills me with strange ideas, and makes 
me devise any number of wild and impracticable 
plans, which might bring me back to you. If I do 
not execute them it is because some are impossible, 
and others if worked out might cause you injury. 
But for that I would have thrown precaution to the 
winds, and hazarded my life over and over again if 
I might but see you once more. If our misfortunes 
do not find a speedy remedy I cannot answer for 
my prudence much longer, for such passion will 
overstep all bounds. Am I wrong in writing to 
you in this strain ? If so I implore your pardon, 
but I think if I had been in your place I should 
* Here followed five Spanish words which could not be deciphered. 



198 LETTER No. 3 [chap, xxm 

have taken many steps to oblige I'Ami (^Mazarin) 
to see me again. 

" Yet, oh ! how unjust I am, when I say that 
your love is not to be compared to mine ! I beg a 
thousand pardons. You do more for me in one 
moment than I could do for you in a hundred years, 
and if you could realise how I am touched by the 
words you write, you would in pity omit some of 
them, for they render me frantic when I dwell upon 
such a tender and constant affection while I am 
doomed to be absent from your side. 

" All that you tell me about the Confidant {the 
King) charms me, and I really believe we shall 
receive satisfaction at last ; but I tell you frankly 
that if the affairs of I'Ami {Mazarin) do not im- 
prove in the eyes of the State, I fear that all the 
good will of the Confidant [the King) will not be of 
much service. I assure you that all those who 
give you hope of his return, and tell you to wait 
in patience, are in reality working to prevent the 
possibility of such return, and mean to make the 
State responsible so as to have an excuse, and to be 
able to express their regret at the obstacle which 
will prevent the fulfilment of what they predicted. 
This is merely a passing reflection, but I beg of 
you to bear it in mind, for I know I am right. 
Since Adam, I think no one has been more worried 
than myself, though I am not one to complain ; but 
I have been maltreated by those who were under 
the deepest obligations to me, so that it is impos- 
sible to keep silence — though I will willingly do 



i6si] LETTER No. 31 199 

so if the person that you wot of will continue to 
show me so much friendship with so much tender- 
ness. It is for her that I speak, though there is 
enough to drive one mad when I think of France, 
and all the harm that may happen through this 
ingratitude. 

" I am writing to you more openly than usual, 
because I know I can send you this letter with all 
safety ; but I am reluctant to lay down my pen, 
for it is such happiness writing to you. However, 
I fear to tire you, so * * {Mazaj'ins love) adieu till 
to-morrow. Be ever -^^ {the Qiceens love) for 
I'Ami (Mazarin) will be till death.* " 

The following was one of the Cardinal's letters 
for the Queen's guidance, probably in response to 
one from herself asking for advice : — 

Letter 31 

Jtily iS, 165 1. 

" I received, long after they were due, your two 
letters of the 5th and 8th inst. I cannot answer you 
as satisfactorily as I should wish, but I will tell you 
what I can in the time I have to spare, and the 
rest shall follow on another occasion, though the 
person who will speak to you on behalf of 26 
{Mazarin) will explain the state of things, and 
what are the wishes of 46 {Mazarin). Remember 
what has occurred on the part of 57 {Chavigny) 
and 60 {President de Maisons), and that it is the 
poor Ami {Mazarin) of Zabaot {the Queen) who 



200 LETTER No. 31 [chap, xxm 

is speaking to you, and that P (the Queen) has 
always promised he will refuse him nothing. 
Remember that 57 (Chavigny) is only working for 
the destruction of all that Zabaot {the Queen) loves 
best. I think therefore that Serafin {the Queen) 
should take great heed to the counsels of 46 
{Mazarin) not only on account of the affection he 
bears towards him, but because in things both past 
and present 26 [Mazarin] is far more intelligent 
than those now in command. Do not trouble your- 
self by thinking that the action of 13 {Condi) has 
made things worse; but if you do not take some 
fixed resolve on which to act, everything will come 
to nought. A weak resolve will be better than 
none. 

"It is absolutely necessary for my safety that 
I should change my place of residence. If the 
cry is raised that the Cardinal is approaching the 
frontier, be sure and say you have no knowledge 
of it. 

"It would be advisable to show many things 
that I write you in these letters to 34 {De Lyonne) 
so that you can talk them over. It is necessary, 
too, that La Vigne (Bartet) should go over them 
also with Zabaot {the Queen), and consider them 
well. I do not know how I manage to live at all. 
I am alone, working without ceasing, and not in 
the most agreeable company ; but so assured am 
I of the affection of Serafin {the Queen) that I 
count all else as less than nothing. It is a great 
sqlace to me reading the book sent me by 22 



1651] LETTER No. 34 201 

{the Queen), and I dream often of the second part 
of it. I must end this letter, but nothing can end 
the fact that I am yours, and believe me a thousand 
times always * {Mazarins love).'' 

Letter 34 

(Sent by La Cardonnerie, Lieut, of the Cardinal's 

guard) 

July 27, 1 65 1. 

" As I am sending the bearer to inquire as to 
the healths of their Majesties, I take this opportunity 
to send you a word begging you to tell Zabaot 
{the Queen) that, notwithstanding that I wrote to 
22 {the Queen), the Confidant {the King), Gabriel 
{Princesse Palatine), and others, and what I sent 
by other means to Serafin {the Queen), I think it 
right to represent to ki77z by you, what 26 {Mazarin) 
has confided to me being of service to him. 44 
{Mazarin) has learnt by experience what he may 
expect of 89 {Le Parlement), and the risk that he 
runs of losing the affection of 33 {Paris), and that 
Le Silence {Parlement) assisted by 92 {Condi) is 
fermenting discontent, and may oblige 2 1 {the King) 
to have 38 {Le Sacre) at 33 {Paris) to content 90 
{Les Etats-Gdn^raux), and that La Barque {the 
King) declaring his majority in Le Silence {the 
Parlement) may be constrained to receive 11 {un 
traits), and to ratify all declarations, so that the 
majority may set about the destruction of the 
Kingdom. King Charles did not receive such bad 

26 



202 LETTER No. 43 [chap, xxiii 

treatment from 73 ^ as D {the King) and 44 
{Mazarin), and yet his affairs were -conducted at 
Rome. La Cardonnerie will tell you several things 
regarding the condition of 46 {Princesse Palatine), 
or will let you know through 64 {Bartet). Above 
all things I implore you to say from me to ^^ {the 
Queen) that he is not to be anxious, and If good 
health be granted all will yet go well. I beg you 
to embrace Confidant {the King) for me, and tell 
him a thousand things about the affection I bear 
towards him. I will say nothing further save * 
{Mazarins love)" 

Letter 43 

August 22, 1 65 1. 

" I have not even the consolation of writing to 
you with the liberty I should wish. It is no small 
comfort to open one's heart to a true friend in time 
of afifliction, and, from what I learn, they are 
diligently trying to intercept our letters, so it would 
be an act of great imprudence to hazard anything 
of a private nature; it is a time of suffering for us 
both, and we must put up with it. If it had only 
pleased God that I alone should bear this pain, and 
that 22 {the Queen) could have been spared, I 
should be thankful. This last post has brought me 
no letters from P {the Queen) nor from 42 {Madame 
de Beauvais), nor from hardly any one. I thought 
at least Gabriel (^Princesse Palatine) would have 
written me a line. Please God, all has passed off 

^ This number has not been decyphered. 



i65i] LETTER No. 53 203 

well. Le Brun alone sends me word that he saw 
plainly that Serafin {the Queen) had taken a resolu- 
tion, and I hope more than ever that he has given 
up the friendship with 57 {Chavigny). I implore 
you ever to say ^^^ {Queens devotion^ in return 
for * {Mazarms love), which is the same thing I 
wrote you last time, for it is absolutely true." 

Letter 53 

September 26, 1 651. 

" Ten times I have taken my pen in my hand 
without having been able to write to you, and I am 
so beside myself with the blow that I have received, 
that I do not know whether the words I write, have 
any rhyme or reason. The King and Queen, by 
an authentic act, have declared me to be a traitor. 
I have no longer any peace of mind.^ I am sure 
that when the Queen learns the deplorable state to 
which I am reduced she will be filled with regret, 
but that will not prevent all Europe learning, in 
fifteen days, that Cardinal Mazarin is the most 
abominable of men ! I swear to you, that in the 
state I am in I am ashamed to face even my 
servants. I no longer sleep ; in fact, you would 
hardly recognise me. It is in the Queen's power 
to prevent this news spreading if she will take 
prompt action, and I count it among my misfortunes 
that I am obliged to importune her, but what else 

' Declaration of the King and Queen Regent to the Parlement on 
the subject of the perpetual exile of Cardinal Mazarin, August 17, 
1651. 



204 LETTER No. 63 [chap, xxm 

can I do ? to whom else can I lay bare my trouble ? 
I see she answers for 61 {Siron), and says that he 
and 35 (Madame d'Aigtdlon) are my most dangerous 
enemies, and that they are working in concert with 
57 {Ckavigny), and with access to (President 
Viole), and that there are great cabals at court. 
Also that it has been suggested that 26 (Mazarin) 
should make a journey to Rome. However, I 
still give you my word that nothing can alter 
my love towards P {the Queen) even if he signed 
my death-warrant. And I am persuaded he has 
the same sentiment towards me, and I am ever 
his devoted servant, with the same passion as of 
old. To my last breath I am * *, and a million 
times *, and my greatest joy is to know that these 
sentiments do not displease you, and that you are 
ever ^^ . 

The following letter has been often quoted in 
support of the theory of the secret marriage : — 

Letter 63 

October 22, 165 1. 

" I am persuaded that the hearts of the Queen 
and myself are united by ties that cannot be broken 
either by time or by the efforts of men. I have 
seen a letter from the Queen in which she said that 
her last thought would be for me. You cannot 
think how such a sentiment remains for ever in my 
heart. God must have inspired these words, for at 



rtsi] LETTER No. 74 205 

that time I was in a state of extreme prostration, 
and needed some help. It is strange to find myself 
both married and separated, and always pursued by 
obstacles to this marriage. I at least hope that 
nothing will prevent my seeing her who is dearer 
than life itself." 

Once more there comes a letter of counsel when 
Anne, distraught by the state of affairs, appealed to 
her chief adviser for help. 

Letter 74 

November 17, 1651. 

" You will readily believe the joy of Le Ciel 
(Mazarin) when La Cardonnerie arrived with 
beautiful presents for him, from both 2 1 {the King) 
and P {the Queen). I cannot write at length to-day, 
but I shall try and send you a line every morning. 
I think I may venture to say that Le Ciel {Mazarin) 
will get you'out of your difficulties if you give him 
time, and above all if you do not precipitate matters. 
I forgot to tell you that 93 {les frondeurs) are of 
the same opinion as I'Ami {Mazarin) and Gabriel 
{Princesse Palatine), and this is most important. 
Believe that 44 {Mazarin) has real knowledge of 
the state of affairs, and that you will assuredly come 
out well if you confide in these two persons only. 
I beg of you to tell Confidant {the King) that La 
Mer (Mazarin) will not see him without his parent, 
and that he and she would die a thousand deaths 



206 LETTER No. 96 [chap, xxm 

for him, and above all for her who is dearest to 
him, as she is to * who believes in ^^ ." 

The last of the series was dated January 17, 
1652, the year that witnessed the Cardinal's 
triumphant return to France. 

Letter 96 

January 17, 1652. 

" I received your letter of the 8th with the 
greatest pleasure, as you can well believe, for 
nothing in this world equals for me the knowledge 
that I am more and more assured of the ofreat 
honour of your constant friendship. I am waiting 
with infinite impatience to know what will occur at 
the interview between La Mer [Masarin) and 22 
{the Queen), but I think 22 will be satisfied with 
La Mer, because 26 [Mazarin), who is his greatest 
friend, assured me of this. 

" I have been told Le Ciel {Mazarin) greatly 
desires to see Zabaot {the Queen) in private, but I 
fear it will be difficult to manage. As to the 
Cardinal, who was threatened that if he ever 
appeared in France again he would be torn to 
pieces by the populace, he is very well, and has 
been loaded with civilities wherever he has been. 
He was in despair, however, that the excellent 
M. de Beaufort had not been able to carry out his 
resolution. After the exploit of this latter in Paris, 
when he arrested the Comtesse d'Harcourt, he 
announced that he intended to arrive with their 



i6s2] CARDINAL ABOUT TO RETURN 207 
Royal Highnesses' Cavalry, .and cut in pieces all 
the Mazarins. He did not, however, succeed in 
getting there as soon as the Marquis de Sourdis, so 
the glorious action which would have carried down 
his name to posterity miscarried altogether. The 
bearer of this letter will inform you of many things 
I have not written, and I will not keep him longer, 
as it would retard the departure of Fleins. I am 
told a party of assassins have gone to Paris with 
the express intention of murdering the Cardinal, 
and they received the blessing of M. de Beaufort 
before they started. I can assure you, however, 
that this causes him no uneasiness, and the bearer 
will tell you how calmly he sets out on his journeys, 
fearing nothing. But my messenger cannot tell 
you how much I am * {Mazarins devotion). You 
may be able to some extent to guess because 26 
{Mazarin) knows what is the meaning of -^j. 
{Queens devotion), and he hopes to explain it to the 
satisfaction of Zabaot {the Queen) as soon as he 
sees P [the Queen)." ^ 

The time had now come when the Cardinal 
considered he could safely return to court, and the 
need for correspondence was at an end. It must 
have occupied much of his leisure, and the search 
for trusty messengers to convey these tokens of 
his undying affection must have given him in- 

' Their meeting took place on January 28, ten days after the above 
letter was written, at Poitiers, where Mazarin made his entrance into 
France in company with the King, who, hearing of his near approach, 
went out to meet him. 



208 UNBROKEN UNION [chap, xxiu 

finite trouble, and been a work of no small difficulty. 
It has been affirmed that Mazarin's ardour greatly- 
cooled after his return, and that he found it ridiculous 
or at any rate inconvenient to keep up this appear- 
ance of romantic love ; but the further story of his 
own life and that of the Queen hardly confirms 
this, though doubtless growing years and in- 
firmities rendered his temper uncertain and his 
companionship less ideal than it had been. But 
Anne's love was strong enough to overcome all 
such obstacles. These letters existed as a proof 
of what they were to each other ; she treasured them 
as her greatest consolation and solace through the 
weary months of their separation, and they re- 
mained hidden during the rest of her life, a most 
sacred possession. Woman-like, she was willing to 
make every allowance for the man she loved, so 
that whether Mazarin was far or near, the union 
of their hearts remained unbroken. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

THE RETURN OF MAZARIN 

IN Paris during this period social life continued, 
both in the capital and in the palace, much 
as before. Discontent was rife abroad, and in- 
trigues abounded in the court circle. A marriage 
had been arranged between the Prince de Conti and 
Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, she and her mother 
having once more returned to Paris. Madame de 
Longueville, who had also been allowed to come back 
to Paris, was entirely opposed to this match. She 
had no desire to have as a sister-in-law a young and 
pretty woman who would eclipse her in society, 
and she worked on her brother in such a manner 
as to make him abandon the idea. The Queen, 
who dreaded the marriage, which she thought might 
prove prejudicial to her interests, saw with pleasure 
the obstacles that Madame de Longueville put in 
the way of it, and the service this lady was thus 
rendering caused Anne to receive her with more 
kindness than had at first been her intention. 

The Prince de Conti was indifferent to Made- 
moiselle de Chevreuse, though he had no active 
dislike to her ; but he was quite ready to fall in 
with his clever sister's views, and soon disgusted 

209 27 



210 INTRIGUES AMONG THE LADIES [chap, xxiv 

the young lady by his want of devotion. Moreover 
he made no excuses to the Duchesse de Chevreuse, 
but coolly told her he would withdraw. 

Naturally her anger at this treatment was very 
great. She had always sided with his party, and 
now she determined to be entirely on the other 
side. She at once went to the Queen with offers 
of assistance in any way that she could be of use 
to her, and by her actions at this time greatly 
contributed to the return of Mazarin. 

Madame de Longueville on her part had no 
desire to quarrel with the Queen, and sent her 
word that she was entirely at her service. She 
sent her friend the Princesse Palatine to interview 
Anne, and this Princess also despatched M. Bartet 
to the Cardinal to assure him of Madame de 
Longueville's affection. 

So did these intriguing women work in this 
underhand manner while professing the utmost 
devotion to the Crown. 

Many people were in communication with the 
Cardinal, for the general opinion was that he 
would return. For one thing it was well known 
that the Queen gave no answer to questions of 
State importance till she had had time to consult 
the Cardinal. 

Mazarin was living still at Briihl with his nieces, 
in great comfort, surrounded by his friends, 
when a rumour went abroad that the Due de 
Mercoeur had married Mademoiselle Mancini 
without asking the consent of the King, having 



1652] FOR MAZARIN'S RETURN 211 

joined the Cardinal's family at Briihl, where the 
ceremony was openly performed. De Mercoeur 
then returned to Paris, where he was interrogated 
by the Parlement as to the truth of the story. 

He first said he did not consider that he was 
bound to reply to their question, but he assured 
the assembly that had he done so it would have 
been no crime. 

"You mean to say," said the First President, 
" that you married her before her uncle was 
pronounced to be a criminal." 

De Mercoeur answered, Yes. He had married 
her before the Cardinal had gone into exile. 

This was obviously untrue. The Due de 
Mercoeur had married Mademoiselle Mancini during 
his visit to Briihl, and had openly declared that his 
Eminence was not wanting in friends ready to draw 
their swords on his behalf if his return to Paris was 
opposed. 

Thus the idea that Mazarin would return began 
gradually to permeate all classes. 

On September 17 it was arranged that King 
Louis XIV. should make a public entry into the 
Halls of Justice to declare his majority. He was 
only thirteen years of age, but in those days of 
precocious men and women he was considered fit 
to reign as King, and had reached the age when 
his future marriage could already be discussed. 

The pleasure-loving Parisians flocked to this fete 
as gaily as if never a cloud had darkened their city, 
and gazed their fill on the goodly procession and 



212 THE "GRAND MONARQUE" [chap, xxiv 

the handsome young King in their midst. All the 
princes of the blood, and the dukes and duchesses 
of France, laid aside their quarrels and gathered 
topfether to do honour to the occasion. 

The Queen, accompanied by Monsieur, the King's 
little brother and heir-presumptive to the throne, 
repaired in state to greet him. A splendid com- 
pany of light horsemen, with glittering coats of 
gold-and-silver cloth, preceded by the band, led 
the way, and the cavalry lined the road to keep 
back the excited populace, whose cries of " Vive le 
Roi ! " rent the air. 

Louis wore a coat so completely covered with 
gold embroidery that the colour of it was not visible. 
He was tall for his age, and looked more than his 
thirteen years. He was decorated with orders, and 
sparkling with jewels, and looked already every inch 
the " Grand Monarque " that he continued to be 
all his life. 

Anne, in her royal robes, a beautiful woman in 
spite of her fifty years, with her face wreathed in 
smiles, seemed by no means sad to see her Regency 
at an end, and to be able to lay down the burden 
of government : if she had a sorrow, it was that she 
could not place her son at this critical moment in 
the hands of the man she considered so well 
calculated to guide him. 

She loved her King tenderly, and without a 
tinge of jealousy could truly say, "May he be 
master and I be nought." 

Her desire was to return in peace to Val-de- 



i652] CHATEAUNEUF AS MINISTER 213 

Grace, but Louis was far too young, and the 
country too disturbed for such an idea to be 
entertained for a moment. 

Indeed, Anne found that a good deal of work 
still fell to her share. Chateauneuf was Minister 
just then. The Prince de Cond6 hated him so 
intensely, and was so opposed to his measures, that 
there were moments when he would not have been 
averse from seeing his old enemy Mazarin back in 
power. 

It is needless to say Anne longed for his return, 
not only from her personal feelings, but, apart 
from that, she saw how necessary his powerful 
government was to put the King in his proper 
place, and not to let the people of France think that 
the Monarch was a mere puppet in their hands, and 
to be made to do their good pleasure. 

She considered that Chateauneuf served them 
well on the whole, while his friends, not wishing 
him to be deposed by Cond^, gave out everywhere 
that the King's affairs were prospering, that Conde 
was more than half defeated, and if Mazarin did 
return, it would only be a pretext to prolong the 
war now raging in the west of France between the 
King's troops and those of the insurgents. 

One day, when the Duchesse de Navailles was 
seated in conversation with the Queen, she told her 
how many persons were in favour of the Cardinal's 
return. 

" I am aware of this," replied Anne, " and both 
his Majesty and myself greatly need a Minister who 



214 DUCHESSE INTERFERES [chap, xxiv 

is absolutely one with us, and by whom we could 
control the incessant intrigues at court. I know 
that the insolence of the Chamber of Deputies 
deserves to be punished, but at the same time I 
fear that if the Cardinal returns too soon it may 
be a danger to himself, which would but add to 
our difficulties, therefore I dare not yet take steps 
in the matter." ^ 

The Duchess and her husband were devoted 
friends of Mazarin, and instead of seeing in these 
words a mark of the Queen's wisdom and prudence, 
she thought it augured ill for him, and that the 
Queen's sentiments towards him were changed. 
She therefore made her husband write promptly 
to the Cardinal, telling him his cause was lost 
unless he returned at once. 

The effect of this letter was to make Mazarin 
put his affairs in order without loss of time, not 
without anger in his heart at Anne failing, perhaps 
from cowardice, to support his interests. This did 
not, however, prevent his continuing his correspon- 
dence in the same strain, and he sent her his diary, 
with instructions to keep it with the greatest care. 

Fifteen months had passed since Mazarin had 
fled in secret from Paris, and he was fully deter- 
mined to return. 

His nieces had been living with him, and 
but for his disgrace and absence from court he 
had been leading a very pleasant existence, sur- 
rounded by all the luxury so dear to him. When 

* Memoires de Motteville, vol. 3. 



i65*] MADAME DE CHATILLON 215 

there was a talk of his departure his house steward 
had some trouble in winding up his affairs, and 
checking the reckless extravagance. 

And now another woman meddled in the affairs 
of the Cardinal, as she too was desirous to have the 
honour of settling what was the most momentous 
crisis in Europe. 

This was Madame de Chatillon, a beautiful 
widow, who cherished a bitter hatred for Madame 
de Longueville. 

This lady had many a score to pay off on 
Madame de Longueville, who had robbed her of 
her admirers more than once ; she was, besides, in 
love with the Due de Nemours, and, being anxious 
to win his approbation as well as to enrich herself, 
she thought if she could aid in peace being made, 
without her rival having anything to say to it, she 
would greatly advance her plans. She went to the 
Due de Nemours and laid her scheme before him, 
begging him to procure for her full powers to treat 
with the Cardinal. 

Mazarin was doubtful whether this wily woman, 
in spite of her rank and her charms, was equal to 
such a task — rather he thought that she was a tool 
in the hands of the Princes ; but with his usual 
caution he played a waiting game. 

He was more crafty and far more clever than 
his opponents, and saw a means of deriving solid 
benefit from the negotiations which were being 
worked on his behalf 

Turenne had obtained a victory over Conde in a 



2i6 CARDINAL LEAVES FOR FRANCE [chap, xxiv 

sortie at Etampes, on June 19th, 1652, and this made 
Mazarin more than ever determined to march to 
his relief with the royal troops. He had hoped 
to get Charles IV., Due de Lorraine, brother of the 
Duchesse d'Orleans, to aid him, but he found he 
was outbid by the princes, who had bribed him to 
take their part. 

The battle now raged at their gates, and it was 
a struggle between Cond^ and Turenne as to who 
should be master of the capital. Many valuable 
lives were lost in the combat at the Porte Saint 
Antoine, on July 2nd, 1652, among others young 
Mancini, a brave and valiant youth, who paid with his 
life for the misfortunes of his uncle, who was indeed 
accredited with being the cause of all the trouble. 

Mazarin now resolved to return to Paris without 
delay. He greatly disliked the idea of the 
long march, and was often filled with alarms, and 
wished he had never undertaken it ; but making 
a virtue of necessity he set off on his dangerous 
undertaking, fully expecting that the Due d'Orleans 
would oppose his passage through the country, and 
especially at the rivers, where it would have been 
easy to turn him back. 

With his followers and his handful of troops he, 
however, overcame all difficulties, and his near 
arrival was soon heralded. Having gone to the 
relief of Turenne, on his way, they together be- 
sieged Bar-le-Duc, and the reinforcements of 
Mazarin turned the tide of victory. There was 
nothing now to prevent his triumphant return. 



i6s3] TRIUMPHANT RETURN 217 

M. de Tellier was first sent out to meet and 
escort the Cardinal, and then Louis determined to 
go himself to receive the exiled, but now victorious, 
Mazarin. The meeting was at Pontoise, whither 
Anne had already gone, on February 9, 1653. 
Crowds had assembled to witness the arrival — the 
favourite of the moment never lacked friends and 
admirers ; M. de Chateauneuf and the Comte de 
Brienne were in waiting at the time, and in attend- 
ance in the Queen's room. 

They discreetly retired, however, feeling sure 
that the formal salutations between their Majesties 
and the ci-devant Minister would give place to a 
somewhat more tender greeting. 

And so it was. Mazarin's first words, as he held 
Anne's hand to his lips, were to thank her and her 
son for all their love and kindness toward him, 
and then, as he saw the rising emotion of the 
Queen, he turned the conversation to a lighter vein, 
and began entertaining them with an account of 
his adventures. The next day the Cardinal 
received all those who desired to pay him their 
respects. He was proud of the reception that had 
been given him ; but while loading with caresses 
those who had proved themselves his friends, he 
hardly tried to conceal his coldness and indifference 
towards those whom he had good reason to suspect 
of enmity. The Comte de Brienne was among 
this number, in his memoirs he records the fact in 
these words, 

" I had never been among those who paid 

28 



2i8 MAGISTRATES OFFER HOMAGE [chap, xxiv 

assiduous court to the Cardinal — indeed, we had 
had many an encounter of sharp words. 

" I was in attendance on her Majesty when 
Mazarin returned, and, not caring to see him, I 
sought to be in her presence at an hour when I 
thought it least likely to meet the Cardinal. The 
Queen soon perceived this — indeed, Mazarin com- 
plained to her of my want of courtesy — and she 
begged me as a personal favour to go and pay my 
respects to him. 

" This I of course at once did. I saw little 
change in him, save that his absence had made 
him, if possible, prouder and more haughty than 
ever." ' 

His return to Paris was one long triumph, and 
once more France was under his powerful 
dominion. The people who had tried to persuade 
themselves they despised him, feared him still, as 
they had done before, and argued that his rule was 
better than the imaginary liberty they had hoped 
to enjoy without him, but which had never come 
to pass. 

From passive endurance they soon began to 
exalt him, and offer incense at his shrine, and his 
faults were forgotten by the fickle people, who now 
saw nothing but wisdom in his actions. 

The magistrates came to offer him their homage — 

he had the air of a sovereign taking possession 

of his state — and the princes and the principal 

nobles aspired to his favour. His first act was to 

^ Mdmoires de Brienne. 



i6s3] ABSOLUTE SUBMISSION 219 

put a speedy end to the civil war at. Bordeaux ; he 
at once put the army on a better footing, wishing 
to make them ready to defend their country from 
foreign foes, instead of merely waging war on 
their fellow-countrymen. France felt once more 
that the Cardinal was at the head of affairs, and 
master of her destinies. 



CHAPTER XXV 

MAZARIN AGAIN IN POWER 

IT was the general belief that the Queen awaited 
the Cardinal's return with eagerness, and re- 
ceived him with transports of joy ; others say she 
had learnt to do without him, and received him 
coldly. 

As a French historian puts it, "there are 
mysteries of a woman's heart which a man cannot 
penetrate, and he would be bold who would try to 
understand them." ^ 

Anne's real chronicler, Madame de Motteville, 
maintains a complete silence on the subject in her 
voluminous Mdmoires, in which she mentions the 
Cardinal as little as possible, save in his public 
capacity. 

But in those days the world had not been 
privileged to see the letters still hidden under lock 
and key in the Queen's private coffer — letters which 
tell their own tale, and refute emphatically the 
statement of Anne's coldness or indifference. 

The years now rolled by in peace and tranquillity 
as far as Anne and her court were concerned. 

^ Bazin de Raucon, Histoire de Fra7icc sous le Minisiere de Mazarin, 
vol. 2, p. 207. 

220 



i653] LE GRAND SPOLIATEUR 221 

Mazarin, whose palace had been despoiled in his 
absence, began to collect fresh treasures. 

** Ce grand spoliateur," as he was termed, was 
supposed to be reduced to poverty. On returning 
to his palace he found nothing but bare walls, but 
he at once began to buy back, piece by piece, all 
that he had lost. Nearly everything was brought 
back to him, even precious manuscripts, which this 
time he had the wisdom to have entered into a 
catalogue, which is mentioned in the Historical 
Researches of Antiquities in Paris. 

His books having been dispersed, the King's 
library was brought to form the nucleus for a new 
one. Jabach, a German banker, and amateur 
collector, had bought most of the pictures, and 
Mazarin managed to get them back by degrees, 
and the famous Palais Mazarin soon became more 
of a world-wonder than ever. He instituted a 
famous lottery of 500,000 livres' worth of curios and 
jewels, and gave a number of tickets gratis to the 
King and all the members of the royal family ; 
but there was a method in all these proceedings 
which was easy to follow — he was lavish in his 
generosity if he thought it to his advantage. 
It was the fashion to accuse him of avarice, but 
" extravagance " seems a more fitting word to use, 
at any rate where his own expenditure was 
concerned. 

Meanwhile, the estimation in which he was held 
increased daily, and one and all paid court assidu- 

* Sauval, vol. ii. 



222 OLYMPE MANCINI [chap, xxv 

ously to the great man ; his nieces were also a 
source of admiration and interest. 

The marriage of Madame de Mercoeur had 
elevated them all into a fine position. Her sister 
Olympe, though less pretty, was equally attractive. 
Her features were far from perfect, but the thin, 
sallow girl she had been when young and unformed 
had grown into a pretty woman. Her eyes were 
full of fire, and her complexion clear, she was on 
a rather large scale, but had small hands. With 
all her charms, she was still unmarried.^ The 
King adored her, but of course at his tender age 
it was only a matter of amusement to Anne. 

Olympe was very discreet, knowing full well she 
could not aspire to be Queen. Various matches 
had been proposed for her, one with the son of the 
Mar^chal de la Meilleraye, but she had refused 
him. She wanted to be a princess. Her cousin, 
Mademoiselle de Martinozzi, having become engaged 
to the Prince de Conti, she had no idea of being 
eclipsed by her, and indeed, she did not hide her 
annoyance the day that the marriage was celebrated. 
Besides, what added to the sting was the fact that 
the Prince had been given the choice of the two 
girls, and had far preferred the gentle Martinozzi.^ 

Mazarin had hitherto stood aloof in matters 
connected with his nieces, but the growing infatua- 
tion of the King called for some attention.^ 

^ Amedee Rene, Nieces de Mazarin. 
* Mdmoires de Motteville. 

' Other authorities affirm that Mademoiselle de Martinozzi married 
Prince Alphonse d'Este. — Mhnoires de VAbbd de Choisy. 



i6s3] MARRIES COMTE DE SOISSONS 223 

The Cardinal doubtless knew that he could safely 
leave his niece to bring this episode to a close, 
nevertheless he thought it advisable to silence the 
tongues of the scandal-mongers by taking a high 
stand. Olympe, who was older than the King, 
knew well that though for the moment the boy 
fancied himself in love, it was really only a youthful 
passing fancy. She did not play willingly into her 
uncle's hands, for she considered that he had been 
very neglectful of her interests all this time in not 
having furthered any suitable alliance for her. She 
saw rather that he had made a tool of her, being 
well aware that while she remained at court she 
amused the King, and warded off other and more 
dangerous beauties. 

Left to herself, and seeing that Anne took little 
real interest in her, Olympe determined to satisfy 
her ambitions, and she agreed to marry Eugene, 
Comte de Soissons, son of one of the Princes of 
Savoy. He was a great-grandson of Charles V., 
through his grandmother, and of royal French 
blood through his mother the Princesse de 
Carignan, so it would have been difficult indeed for 
Olympe to make a better marriage than this, and, 
moreover, the prince was a man whom in every 
way she could respect and love. 

When it came to the point the King, in spite of 
his wail of undying love, appeared quite indifferent 
when witnessing the marriage ceremony, and Anne, 
who was vexed at the very idea that her son should 
have fretted after Mademoiselle Mancini, turned to 



224 MADAME MANCINI [chap, xxv 

the Cardinal, and said triumphantly, " Did I not 
tell you there was nothing to fear in this attach- 
ment ? " ^ 

The Cardinal about this time was much taken up 
by family claims. Both his sisters, Madame de 
Martinozzi and Madame Mancini, being widows, 
had come to live in Paris, where, being charming 
and intelligent women, they were much appre- 
ciated, and when Madame Mancini died it was a real 
grief to many, as well as to Mazarin, who was 
tenderly attached to her. 

It was all the more sad as Madame de Mercoeur 
died in her confinement a few days after her 
mother, leaving three little boys. The whole 
family was therefore plunged in a double mourning. 
When on her deathbed, Madame Mancini com- 
mended her younger children, a boy and three 
more girls, to the care of her brother, especially 
imploring him to put the third daughter, Marie, 
into a convent, instead of letting her appear at 
court, because she considered that the girl's 
character and temperament would lead her into 
temptation. The remaining two, Hortense and 
Marianne, were still little more than children. 

Mazarin, however, disregarded this request. He 
sent to Italy for the youngest, Marianne, who had 
been left there at school by her mother, and re- 
moved the others from the convent near Paris 
where they were being educated. 

Whether the Cardinal disapproved of convents, 
^ Mimoires de Motteville, 



1654] MARIE MANCINI 225 

or whether it was natural affection which made him 
wish to keep them all with him — for he really loved 
these young girls — cannot now be decided ; at any 
rate he took them to live with him. 

Hortense already gave promise of being the most 
beautiful of them all. Marie, the eldest of these 
three, was thin and sallow, as Olympe had been, 
and was ungainly in appearance. She inherited 
much of her uncle's nature, and was proud and 
arrogant. Nevertheless, the impressionable Louis 
now transferred his admiration to her, and she 
took full advantage of the young King's innocent 
attentions, for she found it greatly improved her 
position at court. He sought her out on every 
occasion, led her out to dance, and paid her a 
thousand little attentions. She became the envy of 
all the other ladies, and it caused a great deal 
of jealousy and heart-burning, but, under the pro- 
tection of her uncle, Marie enjoyed her triumph 
unmolested. 

One evening Anne had begged Henrietta Maria 
to come to a small and friendly entertainment in 
her private room to see the King dance. She was 
asked to bring her little daughter, only ladies of 
the court and young girls being admitted. 

The Queen appeared in a cap and n^gligd dress — 
some equivalent to the modern tea-gown — to mark 
the informality of the occasion ; but though the 
company was small, much care had been lavished 
on the arrangements, so that the party should be 
in accordance with the exalted rank of those 

29 



226 THE KING'S RUDENESS [chap, xxv 

present. The King, always accustomed to pay 
every attention to the Cardinal's nieces, at once 
led out Marie Mancini to dance the branle, a sort 
of country dance of which he was very fond. 

His mother, much annoyed at such lack of 
manners, rose hastily from her chair, and taking 
his partner by the arm pulled her away, and ordered 
them to desist, telling Louis in an angry whisper 
to lead out his cousin, the Princess of England. 

Henrietta Maria, who saw what was going on, 
and did not want the young people's evening to 
be spoilt, ran up to her sister-in-law, and begged 
her not to mind whom the King danced with, 
all the more as her child had hurt her foot, and 
was, she thought, incapable of dancing. 

" No," replied the Queen, " I cannot allow such 
an excuse. If Louis cannot dance with his cousin, 
he shall not dance with any one else ; but I know 
he will wish to do so — it was only forgetfulness on 
his part. Come here, Louis, and lead out Made- 
moiselle d'Angleterre." 

But Louis was not going to be dictated to, 
and in spite of his mother's remonstrances and 
entreaties he turned sulky, and answered rudely 
that he would not dance with little girls. 

It was true his cousin was only eleven, but he 
was only sixteen, and Anne was very angry indeed. 

In public she always treated the King with 
great respect, but in private she allowed herself 
the privilege of a mother to scold him heartily. 

Both the Queen and the Cardinal now saw that 



1657] MAZARIN'S SPEECH TO THE ENVOY 227 

it would be very difficult to guide Louis aright, 
for he fell in love over and over again, the only- 
safety being in his fickle nature. He hardly ever 
saw the Comtesse de Soissons now, and appeared 
quite indifferent to her. 

To Hortense he paid but scant attention, in 
spite of her beauty. He did not find little girls 
to his taste. 

It was said that the King was in much better 
temper ever since his adoration for Marie, that 
she had a good influence over him, and used to 
advise him to read novels, and amuse himself in 
many ways.^ It was now thought best to arrange 
a marriage for the King, and as there was some 
prospect of peace with Spain, Mazarin's thoughts 
turned in that direction. Affairs of State were so 
intricate at that epoch that the Cardinal found 
his hands pretty full, and to the Envoy Louis de 
Haro Mazarin made the famous speech : 

" You Spanish Ministers are fortunate, and can 
discuss matters with ease. Your women are 
amenable to government, their only passions are 
luxury and vanity, and they are occupied with 
writing letters to their lovers and confessors. But 
in France it is quite different, they mix themselves 
up in the affairs of State. We have three such, 
the Duchesse de Longueville, the Duchesse de 
Chevreuse, and the Princesse Palatine, who alone 
are enough to upset any country." ^ 

* Memoires de Mademoiselle, Coll. Petitot. 

' Vie de Madame de Longueville^ par Ville/ois, 2nd part. 



228 SPANISH ALLIANCE [chap, xxv 

Now he had to add to his list the young girls 
who fluttered round the Monarch. 

A Spanish alliance, if it could be brought about, 
appeared to be far the most politic. Anne would 
have welcomed the little English princess as her 
daughter-in-law, but the King continued to feel 
aversion to his little cousin, which sentiment was 
fostered by the Cardinal, who disapproved of the 
match. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

A WIFE FOR LOUIS XIV 

A QUESTION now arose as to whether it 
would not be a good plan for the King to 
marry Princesse Marguerite of Savoy. Mazarin was 
of opinion that the match that would really suit 
the Queen best, and serve his own ends, was the 
Spanish one, so, after his Machiavellian habit, he 
encouraged the King to pay court to Princesse 
Marguerite, taking care that the news should reach 
the ears of the King of Spain, and, by making him 
think that the prize was slipping out of his grasp, 
render him more desirous to see his own daughter 
on the throne of France. 

On the other hand, if the Spanish King would not 
lend himself to the project, they could but fall back 
on the House of Savoy. 

As long as the King did not marry the daughter 
of Henrietta Maria, Mazarin was content, whichever 
way things went — and, after all, the Princess of 
Savoy was first cousin by marriage to his own niece, 
the Comtesse de Soissons, which was not unpleasing 
to his vanity. So, in accordance with his policy, 
he arranged that the court should proceed to Lyons 
in the end of November, 1658, to meet the royal 

229 



230 THE PRINCESSE MARGUERITE [chap, xx^'i 

family of Savoy, and Anne, ever pliable in his 
hands, agreed to everything he proposed. 

The King was full of impatience to see his 
promised bride, and when he heard that the Cardinal 
intended to go out to meet them, he declared he 
must do so as well. 

Accompanied by Monsieur his brother and his 
mother, they started in the royal coaches, and drove 
a few miles out of Lyons, where the court was 
staying. Anne remained at the place appointed for 
the meeting, but the King got out, and, mounting 
his horse, rode on in advance to meet the Princess 
of Savoy and her daughters. 

After the usual salutations, during which his eyes 
were fixed intently on the Princesse Marguerite, he 
returned to his mother's carriage, and exclaimed, 

** She is charming, very much like her picture. She 
is rather swarthy, certainly, but has a pretty figure." 

The Queen then alighted from her coach and 
went forward to embrace the royal strangers. She 
politely offered a seat in her carriage to the Princess ; 
Monsieur escorted the elder sister, who was a 
young widow, and the King handed Princesse 
Marguerite into the state coach, where he made 
himself very pleasant to her all the way back to 
Lyons. 

There they were all received with great state, 
and the Princess publicly thanked both the King 
and the Cardinal for the kindness and honours with 
which they had been welcomed.^ 

' M^moires de Motteville^ vol. 4. 



1658] INDIGNATION OF KING OF SPAIN 231 

The evening passed off well, but destiny and the 
Cardinal intended quite another marriage for 
Louis XIV., and this poor young princess had 
merely been made to play a part, without any 
regard for her own feelings or natural ambitions. 

When the King of Spain saw that the French 
alliance was slipping away from his grasp, he be- 
came, as the Cardinal had anticipated, more keen 
to ratify it. 

"It cannot be, it shall not be," was the Monarch's 
answer when told that the royal family of Savoy 
were shortly expected in France, with a view to 
the settlement of the marriage. He sent for Don 
Antonio Pimental, to whom he confided the delicate 
mission of conferring with the Cardinal, and offering 
him peace and the Infanta. In such haste was 
he that he sent off Pimental without passports 
at the risk of being taken prisoner. The latter, 
however, had no fears ; whether a prisoner or 
not he had every intention of treating directly 
with the Minister, and he knew that what he had 
to propose would ensure a favourable hearing. 

Wearing a disguise, he made his way safely to 
Lyons, arriving on the very day on which the 
Princesses of Savoy made their State entrance. 
Don Antonio Pimental came into the city from the 
opposite side, and thus these two powers were to 
be pitted against each other in the arena, and 
Louis XIV. was to be the prize. 

The combat was unfair from the beginning. 
The little principality of Savoy was no match for 



I 



232 LOUIS IS STUBBORN [chap, xxvi 

the great kingdom of Spain, backed up, as the 
latter was, by the all-powerful Mazarin. 

Pimental did not avow his intention too openly, 
but sent for a man named Colbert, the Cardinal's 
steward, and discovering his identity to him begged 
for a private interview with the Minister.^ 

While this intrigue was going on Anne on her 
side was in a state of great depression. She was 
much disappointed in the Princesse Marguerite, 
who was not nearly so pretty as she expected, and 
in her heart she had always hankered after the 
marriage of her son with one of his own family. 

It is hardly to be supposed that she was not 
privy to the Cardinal's intentions, though it is 
possible that he did not always confide his plans 
to her. She did not find it altogether easy to 
persuade Louis to give up the princess to whom 
he had taken a fancy, and he told his mother he 
would marry her, and that her arguments were of 
no avail, for he was now master of his actions. 

Anne burst into tears — the poor woman invari- 
ably found herself between two fires. How was 
she to content both her son and her lover ? 

As usual she had recourse to her prayers, and 
sent for her confessor, begging him to have petitions 
offered up in all the convents on her behalf^ 

That evening when the court were assembled 
the Comte de Beringhen, who had been watching 

^ Colbert, who at that time merely held the post of steward jn 
the Cardinal's household, rose to eminence, and became the great 
Minister of Louis XIV. 

* Memoires de Motteville^ vol. 4. 



p 



1658] ANNE IN DESPAIR 233 

the King's lover-like attentions towards Princesse 
Marguerite, and saw that the Queen regarded 
them with an anxious air, approached her, and said : 

" What do you say to all this, Madame, and 
what does the Cardinal say ? " 

" He does not say much as yet," was Anne's 
cautious reply, "and I hardly know what steps 
to take to check the King's impetuosity." 

Beringhen, who was devoted to the Queen, to 
whom he owed all his advancement, went ofif after 
this conversation to seek the Cardinal, and pointed 
out to him the obligation he was under to oppose 
the inclinations of the Monarch, and fall in with 
the views of the Queen in this matter. 

" I do not see," replied Mazarin calmly, " what 
concern it is of mine. It is not my fault if the 
King is too much devoted to this young lady, 
and I certainly have no intention of mixing 
myself up in his affairs." 

Though the Cardinal replied with due courtesy 
to the rather tactless remonstrances of the well- 
meaning but impetuous Beringhen, the answer 
the latter received left him no doubt, that his 
remarks were useless and unavailing. 

It was Mazarin's custom always to give a polite 
and evasive reply. When people worried him 
with questions of the kind, or proffered him advice, 
the discomfited ones always retired with the 
certainty that he was laughing in his sleeves all 
the time, and never would he admit for one instant 
in public that the Queen was swayed by him. 

30 



234 PEACE AND THE INFANTA [chap, xxvi 

The following evening Mazarin entered Anne's 
private room with a smiling face. 

She was seated alone, looking very disconsolate, 
but brightened up at the sight of the Cardinal's 
cheerful countenance. 

" Good news, Madame," he exclaimed. 

'* What news can be good save that of peace 
with Spain ? " replied the lady. 

"I bring you better news even than that. I 
come to announce to your Majesty peace, and the 
Infanta!" 

Anne sprang from her chair with sparkling eyes, 
all her lassitude gone, and clasped Mazarin's hand 
in both of her own. This was indeed the desire 
of her heart, about to be fulfilled. 

After a short and eager conversation they sent 
for Louis. Even that fickle youth, who only 
wanted to be married, and did not much care who 
the lady was, had sense enough to cast his mind 
into futurity, and see what such a union would mean 
for himself and for his country, and without an 
instant's hesitation he agreed to everything. There 
was considerable awkwardness as to how the news 
was to be broken to the Princess of Savoy, but 
the Cardinal was equal to the occasion : he told 
her in his blandest manner that the peace of 
Europe was in the balance, that it could only be 
assured by a marriage between the King and the 
Infanta, but that had it not been so, they would 
have gladly welcomed her daughter as queen. 

Swallowing her chagrin as best she could, the 




From a sketch by R. P. Boniitgton. 

ANNE OF AUSTRIA AXU CARDINAL MAZARIN. 



I 



1658] DEPARTURE OF THE PRINCESS 235 

Princess was obliged to agree to everything that 
was laid before her, and beat a retreat in the most 
dignified manner possible. Princesse Marguerite 
won all hearts by her admirable behaviour under 
these trying circumstances. Her pride did not 
desert her and she showed no anger or impatience, 
but departed with her mother and their Court, 
leaving behind her a very pleasing impression. 



I 



CHAPTER XXVII 

LOUIS XIV. AND MARIE MANCINI 

SOON after all these exciting interviews had 
taken place the Cardinal fell ill with a bad 
attack of gout. The court, therefore, remained in 
■ Lyons, being unable to return to Paris. The 
Queen went every day to see him, while the King 
passed his time agreeably in making love to the 
fascinating Marie Mancini. 

Anne was not only much displeased, but also rather 
alarmed ; she disliked the girl personally, though she 
naturally did not wish to quarrel with the Cardinal's 
niece. Louis was still such a mere boy that he 
might be excused for his folly. 

He used to whisper in her ear even in the 
Queen's presence, and they were never seen 
apart. 

When Anne bade the company good-night the 
King used to escort Marie on her way home to 
the house where they were lodged. At first he 
used to put her into her coach, standing bare- 
headed on the steps as she drove away, waving 
a smiling adieu. 

After a while he had his own carriage in readi- 
ness that he might follow and see her home in 

236 



1659] ANNE'S INDIGNATION 237 

safety, and it was not long before he took his 
seat beside her.^ 

Anne was growing distinctly uneasy. She had 
hoped when Olympe was safely married that they 
had reached the end of that trouble, and now 
another and far more dangerous Mancini was on 
the scene, causing a public scandal. Anne's fervent 
desire was to see her son lead a sober, Christian 
life, so that he might be fit to aspire to the hand 
of her niece, while Louis, on the other hand, 
lived only for the passing amusement of the 
moment. 

Mazarin chose to treat the matter lightly, though 
he could not have been altogether easy, for on 
the one side was the much-flattered Marie, with 
far less knowledge of the world than Olympe, 
coaxing her uncle to assist her in the matter, as 
she was sure she could be Queen without much 
difficulty, and on the other was Anne, with a face 
like a thunder-cloud, little inclined to treat the 
matter as a joke. 

" I think, M. le Cardinal," she said one day 
in her very stateliest manner, " that it would be 
impossible for the King to behave in the dastardly 
manner that some people would have us believe. 
Should such a thought pass his mind, and were 
he tempted to offer so great an insult to Spain as 
to break off his engagement to the Infanta Marie- 
Th^rese, all France would rise up against him 
and you, and I should do the same." 

' Amdd^e Rend, Les Nieces de Mazarin. 



238 CARDINAL REMONSTRATES [chap, xxvii 

Mazarin smiled at this angry tirade, but with a 
touch of sarcasm ; it was not often that Anne 
let herself go in this manner, especially in anything 
that concerned himself 

He laughed away the Queen's fears, and scorned 
the insinuations which were not worthy of being 
even considered. There were not wanting those 
who said the Cardinal had entertained the idea, 
but this was not at all in accordance with his 
usual policy, only it angered him to hear the 
Queen's slighting remarks on his favourite niece. 

As he was just recovered from an attack of 
gout it is only natural to suppose that his temper 
was not very equable ; but he saw the wisdom of 
putting a stop to this undignified affair so that he 
at least might be in the right. He determined 
to send away his nieces, at any rate, for a 
time, in charge of their governess, Madame de 
Venel.^ 

Once his plans were made he sought the presence 
of his King, and in his double capacity of Minister 
and former tutor taxed him with having carried 
this amiable weakness to lengths which impaired 
the royal dignity. 

But Louis, whose infatuation was now at its 
height, refused to listen to reason, and swore he 
would marry Marie and none other. 

A weaker man than Mazarin might have allowed 
himself to be dazzled by the greatness of this 

* Lettres inedites de Mazarin a Madame de Venel, pub. par Cheruel 
dans le Journal general d' Instruction publique. 



1659] THE LOVERS' PARTING 239 

alliance, but he who dared everything was adamant 
on this occasion. This far-seeing man was never 
biassed by things of the moment ; his mind, stretching 
into the future, saw how little such a marriao-e 
would redound to his credit, or bring about the 
successes he still aspired to. 

He sternly refused his Sovereign's request. 

After vainly beseeching his Minister to reconsider 
this matter, the King appeared to give in, and only 
craved for one last interview. 

The boy was broken-hearted, or thought he was. 
The girl was playing a double game. Her juvenile 
lover had hardly touched her heart, but she stimu- 
lated profound grief in keeping with his tears. 
Again and again he embraced her, swearing that 
when he had attained full manhood neither Mazarin 
nor any one else should stand between him and his 
desires. 

It was indeed a drama on a real stage, as the 
kinglj^ lover held the hand of the ambitious beauty, 
and looked his whole soul into her eyes, while he 
vowed eternal fidelity ; then she felt it was time to 
end the painful interview, and with tears streaming 
down her cheeks murmured, " You weep, and yet 
you are King and master," and with one long, 
last embrace they parted.^ 

The King, in a state of supreme depression, made 
no effort to hide his sorrow when he escorted the 
girls to their travelling coach, and then sorrowfully 

' Memoires de Moitenille. Marie's phrase, often quoted, was am- 
biguous and daring— a challenge more than an act of submission. 



240 DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENTS [chap, xxvii 

re-joined his mother, who did her best to console 
him for his lost love. 

It was decided the court should move to Fon- 
tainebleau. to avoid the summer heat, while the 
Minister concluded his arrangements in Paris 
with Pimental. Diplomatic negotiations took so 
long in those days, when the facilities for com- 
munication were few, that it took from June to 
November of the same year to get the treaty 
signed- 

It was settled that Mazarin should repair to 
the frontier for that purpose, and the Queen 
determined that they should all proceed to St. 
Jean-de-Luz together, and there the court could 
remain till the negotiations were concluded at the 
frontier, the Cardinal going in advance for that 
purpose. 

While they were travelling by easy stages to 
Bordeaux, Louis implored his mother to allow him 
to go and bid Marie a last good-bye, as they would 
pass near the place where the Mademoiselles 
Mancini were residing. Anne could afford to be 
magnanimous now that she was within sight of 
the accomplishment of her desires, and she gave 
orders that Marie Mancini should await their 
arrival at St. Jean-d'Angely. 

But there was little to fear from this interview, 
which was very different to the former one. Few tears 
were shed on either side. Louis, truth to tell, had his 
head full of his approaching marriage, and Marie 
knew that her empire over him was completely at 



i6s9] END OF ROMANCE 241 

an end, and accepted the situation philosophically. 
So ended this romance. The crown of France had 
never really been in danger, and the fair Mancini 
consoled herself speedily, while Louis spent the 
remainder of his long reign in falling under the 
influence of first one beautiful woman and then 
another. 



31 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

TREATY OF PEACE AND MARRIAGE OF LOUIS XIV 

ONCE more the scene is shifted to the Bidassoa, 
and forty-five years after the last royal 
pageant on the river's bank, much the same 
spectacle was to be re-enacted. 

So long had the arrangements and negotiations 
taken that months had passed since the royal 
party had left Paris, but these preliminaries, though 
lengthy, were indispensable. 

While they were still waiting in suspense, news 
was brought to the King and his mother which 
gave them great pleasure, and this was the intelli- 
gence that Charles II. of England had returned 
in triumph, and ascended the throne from which 
he had been driven. He was a great favourite 
with his aunt and cousin, and they rejoiced at his 
success. 

On June 2, 1660, the Spanish King arrived 
at Fuenterrabia. 

In the middle of the Bidassoa was a small island 

called " L'lle des Faisans," and this had been 

converted into a more permanent boundary than 

had been the floating barges over which Anne and 

Elizabeth had passed to their respective thrones. 

242 



i66o] MARRIAGE BY PROXY 243 

It was also called " L'lle des Conferences." A 
building had been erected on it, with a hall 
in the centre as a throne-room, two royal chairs 
of state being placed so that one was on French 
territory and the other on that of Spain. 

It was adorned in the most magnificent manner, 
and excited great curiosity. Owing to the formal 
etiquette existing in those days, it was judged 
necessary that the French court should remain 
at St. Jean-de-Luz, while the Spanish one was at 
St. Sebastian, and the King and his suite lodged 
at Fuenterrabia, therefore Anne and her brother 
did not meet, but received each other's envoys. 

Louis also could only send tender inquiries after 
the health of the Infanta, to which she responded 
daily, with affectionate messages to her aunt. 

Nevertheless, Louis took offence because none of 
the family had chosen to seek an interview with 
them, and when the day came for the marriage by 
proxy, he refused to allow Monsieur to go over to 
Fuenterrabia to witness the ceremony, though the 
boy begged hard to be allowed to go. 

The Bishop of Pampeluna performed the service, 
which was held in the fine church on the top of 
the hill, and the mass having been said, Marie- 
Therese stepped forward, and after the procuration 
of Louis had been read aloud she was called upon 
to give her consent. They were then pronounced 
man and wife, and she knelt before her father to 
receive his blessing. 

The Infanta was a small, delicate-looking girl, 



244 SPANISH WEDDING-DRESS [chap, xxvm 

with very fair hair and blue eyes. She was too 
slender for the French taste, and they all agreed 
that had she had a more imposing presence, they 
would have admired her more. 

Her Spanish court-dress also did not meet 
with their approval. The fashion in Spain for 
women was to wear their clothes very loose, and 
the dresses were cut very low at the back, without 
any kerchief, so that their shoulders were exposed. 
The sleeves were short, and there was a want 
of muslin and lace about the bodices. They 
wore monstrous hoops that made their skirts look 
like barrels flattened before and behind, and in 
walking this extraordinary machine swayed back- 
wards and forwards. 

A mass of false hair was worn, leaving the 
forehead high and uncovered. No wonder the 
little fair bride did not show to advantage in 
such a style. 

Her dress was richly embroidered with a curious 
kind of talc, silver not being used for that 
purpose in Spain, and it was by no means an 
ornamental trimming. Her luxuriant hair was 
hidden under a white cap, which made her face 
look smaller and thinner than ever, and the French 
nobles wondered among themselves how their 
master would approve of his bride, though they 
admitted that she was not wanting in beauty if 
only she were properly dressed.^ 

The following day Anne, accompanied by one 

* Mdmoires de Motteville. 



i66o] ANNE AND PHILIP 245 

lady only, was to meet her brother and her new 
daughter-in-law on the Isle of Conference, but it 
was still against etiquette for Louis .to meet his 
newly made wife, nor could the Kings of France 
and Spain come together till the day on which 
they were to sign the treaty of peace. Louis was, 
however, allowed to send her some of the crown 
jewels, which mission was entrusted to the Due de 
Crequy. 

Anne, with her warm, impulsive nature, ran 
forward to greet her brother, and wished to 
embrace him, but Philip held himself stiffly aloof, 
and only bowed gravely. Marie-Therese knelt 
before her aunt, who raised her in her arms and 
kissed her affectionately. Monsieur then came 
forward to greet his new relations, and the Cardinal 
(ever one of the family party) was warmly received 
by the King, who met him with an effusion he had 
not displayed towards his sister, and assured him 
that in his opinion Europe owed to Mazarin the 
peace about to be ratified. They seated themselves 
on the chairs, which were placed as near as possible 
on the line which marked the division between 
the two countries, and the long-parted brother and 
sister began a conversation which must have been 
most difficult and often painful. 

The Cardinal chatted with the Ambassador 
Don Louis, and Monsieur entertained his sister- 
in-law. 

While they were so engaged the Cardinal received 
a message from a stranger outside who craved 



246 LOUIS SEES MARIE-THERESE [chap, xxvm 

admittance. He asked the King of Spain if he 
might venture to grant the request, and Philip 
politely agreed. 

When the door was ajar, Anne coloured, for she 
saw who the intruder was, though he did not enter, 
but stood looking into the room ; the new young 
Queen flushed up too, for she recognised at once 
that it was Louis himself. 

The King of Spain relaxed his gravity for the 
first time, and smiled, saying to his sister, " I have 
a handsome son-in-law." 

After gazing a few moments in silence, Louis, 
who had arranged with the Cardinal for this quaint 
interview to take place, departed as quietly as he 
had come. 

Turenne and Conde, who were waiting outside, 
asked him eagerly what he thought of his bride. He 
replied that his first impression was that she was 
very plain, on account of her hideous dress and 
cap, but on closer inspection he saw that she was 
really pretty, and that she by no means displeased 
him. 

The new Queen meanwhile was thanking Anne 
for the presents that had been brought to her by 
the Due de Crequy. 

*' No, no, my dear," replied the Queen, *• you 
must not thank me, for they are all from the 
King." 

They were indeed magnificent, and besides tiaras 
and necklaces there were rings and bracelets, clocks, 
watches, gold boxes, and miniatures. 



i66o] FAMILY DINNER-PARTY 247 

Mazarin's presents to the bride were a gold table 
service, two coaches, and twelve horses, with silver 
harness. 

After this interview the King and his daughter 
entered their gorgeous State barge, and were rowed 
back to Fuenterrabia. On the way they saw Louis 
galloping along the pathway beside the river, with 
his plumed hat in his hand in the attitude of a 
devoted lover ; upon which King Philip rose 
from his seat, and bowed profoundly, while the 
shy little Queen-Infanta looked on with admiring 
glances, greatly pleased at this gallantry displayed 
by her young husband. On Sunday, June 6, 
1660, the peace was signed with all possible cere- 
mony. Next day^Anne and her son went in great 
state to the Hall of Conference to claim the 
Infanta. 

The two royal families parted with much warmth 
and affection on both sides, and many tears were 
shed by the father and daughter. 

As soon as the French court had returned to 
their own side of the river they placed the young 
Queen in a magnificent coach, and with a large 
escort of troops she was driven to St. Jean de Luz, 
where she was lodged in great state in her aunt's 
apartments. Etiquette required that she should 
at once retire for the night, and be seen no more, 
but she insisted on dining en famille with the 
Queen, the King, and Monsieur. She appeared in 
a charming ndgligde, with hair unbound, and every 
one went into raptures at her altered appearance. 



248 ROYAL WEDDING [chap, xxvm 

The evening was passed in gay conversation, 
saddened at intervals by the recollection of the 
lonely King at Fuenterrabia. 

Anne must have remembered keenly her own 
separation from her beloved father, but this bride 
had a far pleasanter greeting, without the dreadful 
loneliness which had been her portion when entering 
her new country. 

The next day was spent pleasantly in looking 
at the presents, and showing off her trousseau 
to the Queen-Mother, as Anne was henceforth 
called, and the young couple attended Mass 
together. 

June 9 was the great day for ratifying the 
marriage. The Queen was dressed by the Duchesse 
de Navailles, her mistress of the robes. She wore 
the royal mantle, embroidered with fleurs-de-lis, 
and with the diamond crown of France on her 
head looked very differently from what she had 
done at the preliminary ceremony. 

The afternoon was spent in State functions, the 
King scattering largesse to the people, after the 
fashion of the time ; they then dined in public, 
and repaired to the King's palace. 

A few days later the royal party set out to 
return to Paris. They travelled rapidly, being 
anxious to reach the capital. The Queen-Mother 
and the Cardinal, as well as all the members of 
the royal family, remained with the King and 
Queen until they reached Fontainebleau. There 
the court halted for a time, but Anne left them, 



i66o] QUEEN-MOTHER RETURNS TO PARIS 249 
and went on to Paris. Mazarin was again suffering 
from gout, and she doubtless thought it best he 
should get back to his own house with as little 
delay as possible, and she did not care to leave 
him. 

Besides this, her work beside her son was now 
at an end, and she felt she was no longer needed. 



32 
t 



CHAPTER XXIX 

DEATH OF MAZARIN 

FOR some little time the Cardinal's health had 
been failing. His symptoms were greatly 
aggravated by the gout, and there were other com- 
plications which often caused him acute suffering. 

During his absence from Paris he had constructed 
in his palace an appliance which may be regarded 
as the equivalent of a modern lift. It consisted of 
a chair worked by pulleys, and could be drawn 
through the floors by means of movable platforms 
or trap-doors, and was reckoned a great marvel of 
mechanical genius. 

Mazarin had worked with even more than his 
usual energy over the promotion of the marriage 
and the peace, and now exhausted nature had its 
way, and a collapse ensued. 

The King, who was living at Fontainebleau, used 
often to come into Paris to visit the sick Cardinal, 
and one day he asked him his advice on some point. 

*' Sire," replied Mazarin, " you ask counsel of a 
man who has lost his power of reasoning." 

Louis, who all his life had loved his Minister, 

was so touched by this pathetic answer that he 

went out of the room without speaking, and shed 

250 



i66o] BETROTHAL OF MONSIEUR 251 

tears of real sorrow in the gallery outside. Mazarin 
had been his tutor and his personal friend, and had 
guided him all his life, and he saw with grief that 
that great mind, however willing, was no longer 
capable of serving him. 

When the serious nature of the Cardinal's illness 
became known, all the princes and nobles flocked to 
see him. The Parlement sent a deputation to him, 
an honour which had never been paid before to 
any Minister. Mazarin was much gratified and 
fully alive to the distinction shown to him, but his 
weakness and suffering made him indifferent to 
these earthly dignities, for the glories of the world 
were gradually fading away from him ; he thought 
his end was approaching, but his fine constitution 
triumphed for a time, and he rallied considerably, 
to the satisfaction of his adherents and the intense 
joy of the Queen. 

So life flowed back into its usual channels, and 
the court under the new young Queen was a scene 
of constant gaiety and rejoicing. 

Having seen Louis happily married, Anne turned 
her attention to finding a suitable bride for her 
younger son, and determined this time to secure 
the little English princess of whom she was so fond. 
Henrietta Maria received this proposition with joy, 
and in spite of his youth the betrothal of Monsieur 
with his cousin took place without loss of time.^ 



' The marriage took place in 1661, and proved a very unhappy one. 
Monsieur took the title of Due d'Orleans. This was the 4th royal 
house of that name. 



252 HORTENSE DE MANCINI [chap, xxix 

The Cardinal was equally anxious to settle his 
nieces, for he knew well that, though he had rallied, 
his days were numbered. He sent for them to Paris, 
and lost no time in finding them suitable husbands 
He consulted the horoscopes, a favourite habit of 
his, and a practice in which his niece Olympe 
de Soissons was proficient. At the Hotel Soissons 
they encouraged astrologers and magic, which in- 
deed was an inherited taste in the Mancini family.^ 

There had been a question of a marriage between 
Hortense and Charles H. of England. Henrietta 
Maria entertained the idea, attracted doubtless by 
the rumours as to the immense fortunes that the 
Cardinal's nieces would inherit, but the proposal 
was not carried into effect. Marie Mancini, who 
for a time had destroyed the peace of mind of the 
King, he betrothed to the Constable of Naples, Don 
Lorenzo, Prince de Colonna, and gave her a fortune 
of 100,000 livres and his fine house in Rome.^ 

The beautiful Hortense was married to the 
son of the Marechal de la Meilleraye. He had 
long been in love with her, though originally it 
had been proposed that he should marry her 
elder sister Olympe, but the Cardinal had hitherto 
turned a deaf ear to his prayers, thinking the 
beauty of the family fit to mate with the highest of 
the land. 

Whether Hortense herself pressed him to agree, 

* Memoires de VAbbe de Choisy. 

^ Some amusing memoirs appeared in 1670, said to be from the pen 
of Marie Colonna, but they were condemned as apocryphal. 



i66o] CARDINAL'S INCREASING MALADY 253 

or whether the knowledge that the time was short 
had any weight with him, he consented to this match, 
on condition that La Meilleraye took the name and 
title of Due de Mazarin. The wedding took place 
in the chapel of the Palace, before the King and 
royal family. 

In after-years, as Duchesse de Mazarin, Hortense 
became notorious : she used to be called " the 
Queen of Paris," but her star arose after the real 
dynasty of the Mazarins had set. 

There now only remained the little Marianne, 
and she eventually married the Due de Bouillon, 
but that was long after her uncle's death. 

Anne now saw with alarm that the Cardinal's 
malady was once more increasing and gaining 
ground. As his weakness grew he rarely left his 
own palace, but would sit, almost bent double, 
wrapped in a fur-lined dressing-gown, bowed down 
by the weight of his sufferings and regrets, his 
active mind still longing for occupation, his body 
daily becoming more helpless. 

He would at times wander slowly and painfully 
down his long galleries among his art treasures, 
leaning on his stick, lost in sorrowful meditation on 
the vanity of human ambition. This painful picture 
of human greatness overpowered by human weakness 
was worthy of an-^rtist's brush. The herald of that 
last enemy — the only one left — so soon to claim his 
own, faced the great Cardinal, and in combating 
this dread foe he had ceased to fear the rest.^ 

' La Borde, Palais Mazarin. 



254 THE KING'S GRIEF [chap, xxix 

In February, 1661, Mazarin had been taken to 
Vincennes in the hopes that a change of air might 
benefit him ; but all such measures were now un- 
availing, and on the 6th, feeling very ill, he 
despatched the Due de Navailles tq the King, to 
tell him that he was desirous to see him. 

The Duke broke the news gently to his Majesty, 
and told him the physicians now feared the worst. 
Louis burst into tears and wept bitterly. He 
deplored the loss of the Cardinal and his untimely 
end. 

" Could he but live four or five years more," he 
exclaimed, " I should be better able to govern my 
country. As it is I am not fit to do so, as I do 
not know where to turn, or whom to confide in." 

He at once ordered the royal coaches to be got 
ready, and went to break the news to his mother. 
They started off for Vincennes together without 
loss of time. 

Anne had little hope. Louis, who was young 
and sanguine, felt sure something might yet be 
done, especially as after their arrival the Cardinal 
took another turn for the better — but it was only 
the flicker of the candle. 

Anne knew that human aid was now in vain, 
and she took her place by the bedside of the 
dying man. Silently she sat hour after hour, 
watching his laboured breathing and ministering to 
his wants. 

Often he was irritable, and would treat her as 
if she were a sick nurse ; once he exclaimed im- 



i66i] THE QUEEN'S DEVOTION 255 

patiently, " This woman will kill me with her 
importunities. Will she never leave me in peace ? " ^ 
Weary with pain he seemed quite to forget that 
she was his Queen, and had been the adoration of 
his life ; but with the sublime patience of a loving 
woman who forgives everything, Anne never 
flinched from her self-appointed task. 

(At times the dying Cardinal would look towards 
her with a glance of the old affection that had 
enriched her life, and murmur words of gratitude 
and love. 

At dawn on March 7 Mazarin appeared to be 
sinking- fast, and they sent word to the King 
that he had asked for the Holy Viaticum to be 
brought to him. 

Louis would not awake his mother, who had 
fallen into a troubled sleep in the adjoining chamber, 
but sent at once to Paris with orders for the 
Archbishop to come and administer the last rites 
of the Church to the man who had held the highest 
dignities in her gift. 

Mazarin, though very weak, was fully conscious, 
and prayed for divine mercy, and received the last 
sacraments in the presenceof the King and the Queen- 
Mother. In spite of his calling, the life of Mazarin 
had by no means been one devoted to religion, nor 
had he ever expressed any veneration for the sacred 
mysteries ; but at that solemn moment, when only 
a brief space divides a man from the unknown and 
the infinite, who can judge what passes between him 

' Mdmoires de Montglaty 1661. 



256 DEATH OF MAZARIN [chap, xxix 

and his Maker ? The calm confidence displayed by 
the Cardinal in these last hours, and the courage 
with which he met the king of terrors, surely spoke ^i 
of peace within. 

On March 9 the palace was hung with black, 
and ten thousand masses were celebrated for the 
soul of Jules Mazarin, while in the darkened death- 
chamber Anne knelt, with streaming tears, in silent 
prayer, by the mortal remains of her beloved. 



CHAPTER XXX 

mazarin's heirs 

Two centuries and a half divide that moment 
from the present, and this interval renders 
it impossible to estimate rightly the characters of 
the eminent men or women whose lives we are 
narrating. 

Voltaire said of Mazarin, " C'est a ses actions 
de parler," and certainly his actions had shown the 
greatness of his talents. 

His motto was, " Time, and myself." Arrogant 
and self-assertive as these words are, they also point 
to the great nature that was sufficient to itself, and 
though his defects were many and obvious, it is 
impossible to deny his consistent patriotism, and 
the immense services he rendered to France by 
strengthening its position both at home and abroad. 

The besetting vice of this celebrated statesman 
was his love of money, which was insatiable ; but 
to counterbalance this rapacity, Mazarin possessed 
a refined and liberal taste for learning and the arts, 
and left behind him three conspicuous and lasting 
monuments of his munificence — the " College des 
Quatre Nations" (now the Institute of France), 
the magnificent " Mazarino " library, and the 
" Academie " of painting and sculpture. 

257 33 



258 LYING-IN-STATE [chap, xxx 

The " College" was intended to educate natives 
of those provinces which had been added to the 
country by Richelieu and himself — Roussillon, 
Alsace, Artois, and Pinerolo. The rising genera- 
tion was to be brought up in Paris, and return to 
spread French culture and interests in their own 
homes. It was a bequest worthy of the statesman 
whose diplomacy had been so successful in extend- 
ing the frontier of France. 

The many temptations, due to his exalted 
position and to the age in which he lived, which 
assailed Mazarin, render it difficult to get at a just 
estimate of his character, but his greatness none 
can gainsay, and the honours rendered to him in 
death point to the opinion in which he was held. 

The lying-in-state of the Cardinal gave thousands 
of people the opportunity of gazing once more on 
those well-known classic features, serene and 
beautiful even in death. The court wore mourning, 
an honour which had never before been paid to 
a subject, for a king only wears black for near 
relations or brother sovereigns.^ 

But though this token of love and respect was 
shown to Mazarin's memory, and he was mourned 
in high places, not much grief was exhibited among 
the world at large. The lion was dead, and the 
people had nothing more to fear from him. 

The good folk of Paris, who had run after the 
Minister in his lifetime, and the flatterers who had 
surrounded him, ceased to have any further interest ; 

' Memoires de Motteville. 



i66i] ABUSE OF THE DEAD CARDINAL 259 

indeed, they were now busy in writing and repeating 
lampoons and witty rhymes, for this last form of 
satire was a very favourite one in that and 
succeeding centuries, and neither age nor sex was 
ever sacred from it. These verses were withering, 
often pointless, coarse, and malicious, and they 
spared neither the living nor the dead. 

The Queen-Mother, though still in their midst, 
was a fitting object for their senseless verses, while 
the Cardinal's foibles and generosities alike served 
to point and adorn the scurrilous abuse. ^ 

Every man now began to tell his neighbour that 
Mazarin had been their curse ; they discovered 
that he had been the most hated person in the 
kingdom, and the source of all their woes, and soon 
the fickle crowd poured out abuse over the very 
remains of the dead Cardinal. 

The first few weeks after his death were entirely 
occupied in discussing the enormous wealth he had 
left behind him. He had accumulated a private 
fortune amounting to fifty millions of francs, repre- 
senting at least double that sum according to the 
present value of money. 

Though he had disinherited his surviving nephew, 
and made the husband of Hortense his heir, he left 
young Mancini the principality of Ferrati in Italy. 

' " Mazarin sortit de Mazare 
Aussi pauvre que Lazare, 
Reduit h la necessite ; 
Mais par les soins d'Anne d'Autriche, 
Ce Lazare ressuscite 
Est mort comme le mauvais riche." 

Mimoires de Montglut. 



26o HIS ENORMOUS WEALTH [chap, xxx 

He left large fortunes to his nieces— the Princesse 
de Conti, the Duchesse de Modena, the Princesse 
de Colonna, and the Comtesse de Soissons, and 
200,000 ecus for the litde Marianne, the youngest, l 

But, as was said before, the lion's share fell to 
Hortense, who inherited the Palais Mazarin with 
all its art treasures as well as an immense fortune. 
Most likely this was because he had selected her 
to carry on his name. 

To his great-nephews, the children of the 
Duchesse de Mercoeur, he left large sums, and 
appointed bishoprics and government offices for 
all those who had served him faithfully. 

How this enormous fortune was accumulated has 
never been clearly ascertained. Besides his lucra- 
tive appointments and his numerous abbayes, he 
had immense perquisites appertaining to his post 
of Minister, and large percentages from contracts 
for the army, the admiralty, the ambassadors, and 
the royal household. De Tellier explains his huge 
fortune by saying it was not taken from the people, 
but was entirely due to successful speculations, and 
his passion for play with high stakes was well 
known. 

Be that as it may, it is at least certain that the 
Cardinal's two great passions in life were glory and 
riches, and he had worked hard to achieve both.^ 
It was a hopeless task to silence public opinion — 
the world at large preferred to think that Mazarin's 
wealth was ill-gotten. 

* Lettres de Colbert. 



i66i] HIS PERSONAL LEGACIES 261 

His personal legacies to the royal family were 
more of the nature of mementos. To the King 
he left eighteen huge diamonds, and to the Queen 
a magnificent parure. To Monsieur he left costly 
emeralds, while to Anne he bequeathed one large 
diamond, perhaps one that he always wore, and 
which would thus be doubly precious to her. 

Louis deeply and personally regretted him. 
though some writers, regardless of the loving care 
and sorrow he displayed during Mazarin's illness, 
tried to make out that the King rejoiced at his 
Minister's death.^ There was, however, great 
truth in the saying that his reign really only began 
when the Cardinal was laid in his tomb. The 
aptitude displayed by Louis in taking up the reins 
of government surprised those who had hitherto 
looked upon him as a mere careless boy ; but 
they forgot whose hand had guided his youth, 
whose genius had taught him how to govern, and 
whose mighty talent had cleared the way for 
the long and victorious reign of the " Grand 
Monarque." 

Life at court soon began to change also ; 
the intriguing beauties who had reigned there so 
long passed away to make room for younger and 
equally frail charmers. The Duchesse de Longueville 
on becoming a widow returned to Paris and settled 
herself with her children near the Hotel Sable, 
where the Marquise de Sable held a salon as 
famous as the Hotel Rambouillet of a later date. 

' Mdmoires de Mottevillc. Mdmoires de Montglai. 



262 DEATH OF Mme. DE CHEVREUSE [chap, xxx 

Whether it was want of fortune or want of 
health, Madame de Longueville left the scenes 
of court gaiety and intrigues in which she could 
no longer take a place, and joined the circle of 
" Pr^cieuses " and " Littdraires " who flocked to this 
salon. 

The Duchesse de Chevreuse lived to the age 
of seventy-nine. Before she died she saw all she 
had either loved or hated pass away — Richelieu, 
Louis XIII., Mazarin, Anne, Henrietta Maria, 
Chateauneuf, Charles of Lorraine, and many others. 
She became very devout at the end, as did so 
many of the great ladies in those days when 
the world and its pleasures had receded from 
them, and established herself in a modest little 
house at Gagny near the Convent de Chelles, 
where she died in the odour of sanctity, her long 
list of former iniquities being overlooked by virtue 
of the Christian manner in which her last hours 
were spent.^ 

1 Her epitaph was as follows : 

' ' Cy gist Marie de Rohan, Duchesse de Chevreuse, fille 
de' Hercule de Rohan, Due de Montbazon. Elle avait 
epouse en premieres noces, Charles d' Albert Due de Luynes, 
pair et Connestable de France et en secondes noces, Claude 
de Lorraine, Due de Chevreuse. 

"L'humilite ayant fait mourir, dans son coeur toute la 
grandeur du siecle, elle defendit que Ton fit revivre a sa 
mort la moindre marque de sa grandeur, qu'elle voulut 
achever d'ensevelir sous la simplicite de cette tombe, ayant 
ordonne qu'on I'enterrat dans la paroisse de Gagny ou elle 
este morte a I'age de 79, 12 Aout 1679." 

Abh6 de Boeuf, Histoire du Dioche de Parisy 
chap. vi. p. 130. 



CHAPTER XXXI 



CONCLUSION 



ANNE lived for five years after Mazarin's 
death. Not only did she lose the chief 
interest of her life, but also that phase of her 
career with which this book is mainly concerned 
was ended by his death ; the latter portion of 
Anne's life belongs, strictly speaking, to the history 
of Louis XIV. 

As Queen-Mother she took no part in the affairs 
of the nation. She had the happiness before her 
end of seeing the Dauphin born, as well as a 
second son, and of being assured that her dearly 
beloved Louis had heirs to his throne. 

The daughter-in-law she had welcomed so kindly 
was a comfort and solace to her declining years, 
and she lived to see peace and tranquillity in 
France taking the place of the many revolts and 
civil wars through which she had struggled during 
her long regency. 

The rest and quiet she had so long wished for 

were hers at last. Let us hope that in this leisure 

she had some recompense for the stormy life 

she had led at times, and the many self-sacrifices 

of her earlier days, for there is no doubt she 

263 



264 DEATH OF ANNE [chap, xxxi 

must have often done violence to herself when 
she had to forgo any of the practices so dear to 
her to suit the convenience or pleasures of others. 

But the calm and peaceful closing years soon 
doomed her to yet one more painful struggle. In 
1663 a malignant and loathsome disease assailed 
her, and she was pronounced to be suffering from 
cancer. 

For three long years she bore her illness with 
the patience of a saint. Her faithful chronicler, 
Madame de Motteville, gives a long detailed 
account of her terrible illness till death at last 
brought her peace, January 20, 1666. So ended 
the life of Anne of Austria, whose place in history 
is chiefly owing to her having been the mother of 
the great King Louis XIV. and Queen-Regent of 
France for so many years. 

It would be a misnomer to call her a o-reat 
Queen, for she had no special aptitude for the 
burden of government early laid upon her, and 
she never really overcame her natural idleness of 
disposition. Through the long years of her reign 
she had been only the faithful echo of the voice 
that guided her, and a willing disciple of that 
master mind so far wiser than her own. Perhaps 
in that it may be said her wisdom lay, for she ever 
effaced herself, giving place to the man she loved. 

'Tier prudence and firmness, on many a trying 
occasion, did her honour, and to her last hour she 
deserved the love and gratitude of her son. Her 
piety and devotion to her Church, of which the 



»666] LASTING LOVE 265 

fine convent of Val-de-Grace was an outward 
pledge, are well known, and have caused her 
memory to live in the hearts of the faithful. 

A neglected wife, and, though a mother, having 
but young children who could be no support to 
her, her life would have been lonely indeed save 
for the great and enduring affection that entered 
into it. 

What the tie was that bound Anne and Mazarin 
the world never knew, and in the face of so much 
and such conflicting evidence the question is perhaps 
best left unanswered. That the Queen loved the 
Cardinal with all the devotion of an adoring woman 
there is no doubt, and the Cardinal returned that 
devotion as much as it was in his somewhat cold 
and self-seeking nature. When death came and 
sundered the lives which for so long had been 
bound up in each other, the one who was left 
knew that life held nothing more for her, and she 
did not survive him many years. 

Perhaps what brings her most vividly before us 
as a real and living woman, with the frailties and 
■ passions common to all, is this very human weak- 
ness, and the chief interest we feel in her life arises 
from the record of the steadfast love that existed 
between this illustrious Queen and the great 
Italian Cardinal. 

FINIS 



34 



INDEX 



Ancre, Mar6chal d', i6 

Anjou, Philippe Due d', 67 ; Petit 

Monsieur, 95, iii, 126, 153, 243, 

251 
Anna, Infanta of Spain, 2-9 
Anne of Austria (wife of Philippe 

n.), 3 

Anne of Austria (Queen of France), 
13 ; affair with Buckingham, 18- 
25; intrigues, 28, 29; her beauty, 
38 ; " Coup de Compiegne," 41 ; 
birth of Dauphin, 66 ; her daily 
life, 94-98 ; intimacy with 
Mazarin, 107 ; flight to St. Ger- 
mains, 153; ceases to be Regent, 
213 ; her death, 264 

Balthazar, Don, 118 
Barberini, Cardinal, 63 
Bartet, M., 200, 202 
Bassompierre, Marechal de, 47 
Beaufort, Due de, 17, 86, 120, 158, 

166, 181, 206 
Beaumont, Abbe de, 117, 118 

Mile, de, 97, 152 

Beauvais, Bishop, 81 

Madame, 133, 168 

Bellegarde, Due de, 17 
Beringhen, M. de, 96, 152 
Bertaud, Madame, 14 
Blancmesnil, M., 144 
Bouillon, Due de, 69 
Bourbon, Princesse de, 86 
Bregi, Ambassadeur de, 113 
Madame de, 97 



Brienne, Comte de, 100, 217 

Madame de, 123 

Broussel, 144-147 
Brun, Le, 203 

Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke 
of, 18, 19, 21, 24, 25, 31, 32, 33 

Candale, Due de, 167 
Carigman, Princesse de, 223 
Cinq Mars, Marquis de, 69, 70 
Chandenier, Marquis de, 96, 143 
Chalais, Marquis de, 27, 30 
Charles I., King of England, 17, 

Charles of Lorraine, 47, 216 

Charost, Comte de, 143 

Chateauneuf, M. de, 46, 48, 74- 
100, 213 

Charton, M., 144 

Chatillon, Due de, 85 

Madame de, 215 

Chauvigny, M. de, 191 

Chavigny, M. de, 69, 74 

Chevreuse, Due de, 163 

Duchesse de, 16 ; friendship 

with Anne, 20 ; evil influence, 
25; mischief-maker, 31; flight 
to Spain, 52, 54 ; exiled again, 
74 ; returns to France, 82 ; in- 
trigue, 84-93 ; returns to Paris, 
163, 164; her death, 262 

Mile, de, 209 

Coetqueen, Marquis de, 90 

Colbert, 232 

Coligny, M. de, 85, 91 



266 



INDEX 



267 



Cominges, M. de, 96, 144 
Conde, Prince de, 7, 75, 103, 171, 

213, 216 

Princesse de, 153 

Cont6, Princesse de, 22 

Conti, Prince de, 155, 157, 181, 

2og, 222 

Elboeuf, Due de, 112 
Elisabeth, Madame, 2 
Enghien, Due d', 103 
Estefana, Donna, 4 

Fenton, 33 
Ferdinand I., i 
Foix, 93 
Fleix, Comtesse de, 175 

Gesvres, Marquis de, 142 
Gonzague, Marie de, 38, 70 
Grammont, Due de, 104 
Gu6briant, Mar^chale de, 113 
Guemenee, Princesse de, 38, 108, 

115. 179 
Grimaldi, 128 
Guise, Due de, 5, 10, 91 
Mile, de, 38 

Harcourt, Comtesse de, 206 
Haro, Don Louis de, 227 
Hauteville, Madame de, 56 

Mile, de, 38 

Henri IV., 2 

Henrietta Maria, 17, 22, 25, 37, 

102, 103, 225, 251 
Herouard, M., 8 

Jabach, M., 221 

Jars, Chevalier de, 45, 51, 96 

Jar26, M., 142-148 

Marquis de, 165, 168, 170 

Jouvigni, M. de, 27 
Joyeuse, Due de, ic6 

Ladislas, King of Poland, 108, 115 
Laffemas, 48, 51 



Lannoi, Comtesse de, 23 
Lenore, Signora, 99 
Lequier, Chancellor, 146 
Longueville, Due de, 86, 181 

Duchesse de, 84, 93, 155, 

156, 161, 175, 181, 184, 261 
Louis XIL, I 

Louis XIII., 2, 7, 9, 12, 74 
Louis XIV., 66 ; accession, 75 ; 
childhood, 95 ; attends Parle- 
meni, 105; Polish wedding, 112; 
small-pox, 125 ; attends Notre 
Dame, 142 ; state entrj', 173, 
212; love for Marie Mancini, 
236, 241 ; his marriage, 248 
Luynes, Due de, 9-15, 16 
Duchesse de, 15 



Mancini, Madame, 62, 224 

Olynipe, 137, 222, 224 

Marie, 225, 226, 236, 241, 252 

Hortense, 225, 252, 289 

Marie-Th6rese, 238, 244, 249 
Marsillac, Princesse de, 175, 178 
Martinozzi, 137, 224 
Mazarin, Cardinal, 59 ; appointed 
minister, 76 ; " Petit Conseil,' 79 ; 
friendship with Anne, 82 ; pur- 
chase of palace, 128; dominion 
over the Queen, 135 ; arrival of 
his nieces, 136; his flight, 188; 
letters to the Queen, 194-208; 
triumphant return, 217 ; his 
death, 256 ; his last will, 258 
Mazarin, Due de, 253 
Mazarino, Pietro, 59 
Medici, Marie de', 11, 16, 26, 39, 

41-44 
Meilleraye, Marechal de, 222, 252 
Mercoeur, Due de, 162, 174, 211 

Duchesse de, 224, 260 

Montbazon, Duchesse de, 37, 84, 93 

Mile, de, 177, 178 

Montglat, Madame de, 7 
Moissens, M. de, 177 
Mole, M., 107 



268 



INDEX 



Montmorency, Due de, 17 
Montpensier, Mile, de, 26 

Navailles, Due de, 254 
Duchesse de, 214 

Orleans, Due d', 75, Tj, 78, 103, 
106, 112, 137, 140, 185 

Duehesse d', 153, 154 

Mile, d', 120, 153 

Orsini, Portia, 62 

Palatine, Prineesse, 108, 133 

Philip III., 3 

Philip IV., 2, 118, 245 

Pimental, Don, 231 

Pons, Madame de, 175, 177 

Mile, de, 121 

Porte, La, 55, 57, 122, 123 
Posmane, Palatin de, no 

Urban VIII., 71, 133 

Reuard, 87 

Retz, Due de, 166 

Cardinal de, 31, T], 83- 

lOI 

Richelieu, Cardinal, 14 ; siege of 
La Rochelle, 32, 33 ; passion for 
Anne, 35 ; hatred of Marie de' 
Medici, 39 ; dislike of Madame 
de Chevreuse, 45 ; his insolence, 
55 ; his triumph, 57; his death, 
71 ; his relations, 80 

Riviere, Abb6 de la, 1 12-175 



Rochefoucauld, Comte de, 48, 52, 

73 
Rohan, Duchesse de, 92 

Marie de, 16 

Mile, de, 38 

Romanelli, 128 
Ruffalini, Ortensia, 59 
Ruvigny, 165 

Sabl6, Marquise de, 17, 261 
Saint Martin, Mile, de, 121 
Savoy, Princess Marguerite of, 

229-235 
Scarron, 63 

Senac6, Marquise de, 81, 93, 175 
Sequier, Chancellor, 37 
Soissons, Comte de, 223 

Tellier, M. de, 217, 260 
Thou, M. de, 70 
Tremes, Comte de, 142 
Tremouille, Comtesse de, 151-1 77 
Tuboeuf, President, 127 
Turennes, Mareehal, 103, 159, 
216 

Vautier, M., 47 

Vendome, Due de, 75-78, 162 

Mile, de, 38 

Venel, Madame de, 230 
Vieuville, Marquis de, 47 
Vigneul, 180 

Villequier, Marquis de, 143 
Villeroy, Marquis de, 118 
Vincent, Pere, 133 



Printed by Hazell, Watson <S' Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, England. 



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